


The Unusual Orc

by bardbrat



Series: Fantasy Spanking [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Fantasy, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Over the Knee, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardbrat/pseuds/bardbrat
Summary: An elf has an unexpected run-in with a very unusual orc, and he learns more than one lesson about stereotypes and the importance of good behavior toward others. M/M spanking, fantasy setting. Multiple chapters; complete (for now.)
Series: Fantasy Spanking [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838410
Comments: 66
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Pinterest board for Or'Shal's home.](https://www.pinterest.com/bardbrat/the-forest-house-orshals-home/)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Feedback is welcomed.

The elf adjusted his grip on the bow, peering through the dense leaves in front of him. He could barely make out the sight of what seemed to be a small house in the nearby clearing; parting more of the leaves without making the slightest rustle, he saw it looked more like a _shack_ than a house, with a hole in the roof that was already filled in by green, growing things. Indeed, the shack was positively bristling with plants top to bottom. Ivy curled around every corner, moss grew in large patches over everything, and it was sprinkled all about with flowers and mushrooms like little gems of color among the greenery.

It was a bewitching sight, and the elf thought he had wandered into the domain of a wisewoman or alchemist who preferred to practice their skills in solitude, as he had heard of such before. The only part of the shack that kept him from thinking it was uninhabited was the small window cleared of all plant life and the smudge of gray smoke that curled up through an impossibly tiny chimney.

He should have fallen back and begun his search again. At the time, he was under strict orders to locate the position of an orc camp that had been traveling too close to the elven city of Suran. Though he had been offered this important task, there were other scouts on the search as well, and he felt he did have some time to spare.

Just as he thought this, however, the door to the house began to open. Quicker than a blink, the elf had his bow up and was drawing back to aim at the motion, only intending to shoot if the inhabitant was a threat.

The sight that met his eyes was, quite possibly, the last one he had expected. It was a male orc. A towering, green-skinned, black-haired monstrosity wearing... an apron?

The elf stared hard, pondering his options. Unfortunately, he decided to use his emotions rather than good common sense, and aimed the arrow at the window in an effort to frighten the orc. The arrow arced straight to its target, shattering the glass into a dozen pieces with a hideous crash.

"Oy!" The sudden bellowing shout of the orc caused the elf even more alarm, and he panicked, dropping the bow as he began to turn, prepared to flee. "Whoever did this better come out right now." The gruff voice spoke the Elvish language perfectly well, though there was an odd accent to it. "Shootin' at me, or breakin' my window, either one you'll answer for!"

The elf decided, against his better judgment, to run as fast as he could. And the orc pursued him.

That much was evident from the crashing noise behind him. The elf would have been fine on flat, uncluttered ground, but every branch here tore at him, slowing his progress. The heavy footsteps were getting faster, and the orc was strangely much less inhibited by the foliage than he was.

_I'm not a soldier! I'm just a scout! I wasn't meant to die this way!_

Even as his thoughts screamed inwardly, the elf felt a brutish paw of a hand closing around his upper arm. He was stopped and whirled around before he even knew what to think next, gaping at the sheer _size_ of the creature in front of him, easily several heads above him. The orc did look upset, especially considering an elf had just broken his window and run away, but there was nothing inherently dangerous in his expression. The only other details the elf had time to notice were how calm the orc's eyes looked, and the neatness of the dark length of hair that hung over his shoulder.

"Right, then. We can stop this ridiculous chase now." The elf had not even found his voice to protest, and he was being caught around the waist and hoisted up before being dropped right over the orc's shoulder.

"Put... Put me down," he finally managed to stammer, even as he could tell the orc was taking him back to the house in the clearing.

"All in good time, little elf," the orc rumbled, and he felt sure there was an odd trace of amusement in his voice. The elf's mind had gone nearly blank with fear, and he barely realized it when he heard the opening of a door and was placed back on his own feet again.

At that point, he had to stare again. The shack was more than it appeared on the outside, and it was nearly as green. Every available space on the ceiling was covered with hanging bundles of drying plants, and there were also dozens in pots scattered around the tabletops. There were at least a dozen _tables_ , for that matter, of all sizes and heights, covered with the aforementioned plants or measuring scales or small glass bottles. The glassware equipment for the brewing of potions was difficult to miss, and the only other object of larger size was the oven in the center of the room that was giving off a fragrant aroma. It was bewildering, and while it was precisely what the elf might have expected to see inside, surely this orc was no apothecary or hedge wizard.

"I'd offer ye a bite to eat or a cup o' tea, but considering the situation, I don't think it's appropriate at the moment." The elf realized that the orc was speaking and turned his dumbfounded gaze in that direction.

"What is this- You- Let me go, orc!"

The orc actually chuckled, though he had folded his massive arms tightly against his front, with that ridiculous apron he was wearing. It was such a bizarre combination, one the elf felt sure he was not about to comprehend. "I thought elves were more eloquent. Nay, I won't be letting ye go, not yet. Not until ye answer for breaking my window. What's yer name, boy?"

"I'm not a boy," the elf snapped, bristling. He was young, it was true, by Elvish standards, but was certainly full-grown and should appear to be, with his sharp features and waist-length auburn hair that was currently braided tightly against his back. "I'm a scout in the army of Suran. My name is Trysten, not that it will do you any good. Let me go, or I will be forced to kill you."

"Trysten," the orc snorted, clearly not impressed with the threat. "My name is Or'Shal. Orcish apothecary and fortune teller. Very pleased to meet ye, m'lord. I'd rather this talk o' killin' stops right now." The bow that Or'Shal added was considerably mocking and Trysten ground his teeth in annoyance. 

"I don't care what your name is. You are an orc, and... Apothecary? Fortune teller? There are no such orcs," he said slowly, back to being baffled again. Was this all some sort of fevered dream?

"Then ye don't know much about orcs," Or'Shal scoffed, leveling his gaze at the elf. "Right. This isn't a social call. Yer going to pay for my window, then I'll let ye go."

"I don't have any coin," Trysten said, glaring. "And I owe you nothing, beast."

Or'Shal, who actually had a surprisingly pleasant face as far as an orc was concerned, was now beginning to scowl. "Oh? Beast, is it? We're at war, 'tis true. I'm outside of it all, and I've caused no harm to no elf, and mean no harm to anyone. I'm a healer, boy, a soothsayer when times are good. Seems there's very little that ye know about the world outside yer grand Elvish city."

Trysten refused to say anything, and there was a long pause as he kept his eyes cast down on the floor. He drew back at the orc's sudden motion, but he had merely raised a hand to lift Trysten's chin. "No coin is fine. I wouldn't have accepted yer fancy coin. Ye'll stay and fix my window."

Trysten jerked back, shaking his head quickly. "I don't want to. It's impossible for me to care any less for your bloody window. I'm supposed to be scouting, so let me go."

Or'Shal moved closer again, and the elf realized he was being backed against a wall. "Ye'll stay to fix it, or ye'll agree to be punished. Those are the only options; ye best think carefully."

Now Trysten stared, unsure what he had heard. "Punished?"

The orc shrugged, seemingly thinking the conversation was routine. "There's a consequence for every action, boy. I'm not simply going to let ye go. Fix my window. I'll instruct ye, I still have some glass panes laying about. Otherwise, ye'll bend yerself over my knees for a good spanking."

The color drained rapidly from Trysten's face. "A spanking...?" he repeated, incredulous. "I told you that I'm not a child! This is ridiculous, let me out of here!" He tried to push past Or'Shal and make for the door, but the orc's bulk easily blocked him.

"Nay," Or'Shal said in a quiet rumble. "Yer not a child, but ye behave like one. Consequences, responsibility. I thought elves knew about those? Ye seem a right brat, besides. Might improve that foul demeanor to get yer hide tanned."

Trysten's thoughts were reeling, and his face flushed in embarrassment as he contemplated this choice. It would be humiliating to take instruction from this strange orc, but would it be worse submit himself to childish discipline...?

"Alright. Fine," he muttered at last, his current expression indeed that of a child who knows he deserves what he is about to receive. "Punish me then, you vile beast." What else was he supposed to do? He needed to leave, to get back to scouting, and surely this would take less time than fixing the window. Surely it could not be _so_ bad. Surely it was better than the orc outright taking his life.

Or'Shal tutted softly, taking Trysten's arm with surprising gentleness and leading him further into the room. "Need to tame that awful temper you seem to have. Not a good idea to be callin' rude names before yer about to get yer bottom smacked." He sat down abruptly on the cot that seemed to serve as his bed, pulling Trysten down with him. The elf landed neatly across the orc's large thighs, each one thicker than his own waist. Or'Shal then pushed Trysten's leather jerkin up slightly over his back, but thankfully did not seem about to do anything else.

"Ye were going to pay for my window, one way or another," the orc said quietly, and then Trysten could feel him begin to move once more.

The fabric of the elf's leggings turned out to be very little protection against an orc's large hand. The first smack nearly forced the air out of Trysten's lungs as he gasped loudly without meaning to, then bit his lip to avoid giving Or'Shal the pleasure of hearing anything further. He tried to keep still as well, but fighting back his natural inclination to squirm was too difficult once more blows began to land.

There was absolute silence for a time then, except for the sound of Or'Shal's heavy hand striking Trysten's backside in a rhythmic pattern. He had imagined he would be scolded as well, but for now it seemed more as though the orc wanted to be sure his entire seat was warmed before he said any more. Despite the large amount of surface area that hand could cover, it was surprisingly focused and capable of striking precisely, until Trysten could feel it beginning to burn from the middle of his bottom to the tops of his thighs.

He had managed to keep silent, but let out a groan when Or'Shal abruptly stopped. The hand was still resting against his backside in a way that felt more threatening than reassuring that the punishment was over. "That is enough. Let me up, you monster, and maybe I won't go back and report you to my commander." Trysten reached back as if to protect himself, but found his hand quickly snatched and pressed against his back, held in place firmly.

"Again with the insults and threat, eh?" Or'Shal asked, and Trysten wondered why it made his insides flip when he heard the disappointment in the orc's gruff voice. "I can't stop ye from goin' back and makin' my whereabouts known. Yer the unlucky one who's been the first to find me, after all. But I'm of half a mind to write a message to send with ye, recommendin' yer commander give ye a good thrashing every now and then to see if it improves yer attitude."

With those words, Trysten felt the orc's hand move and begin tugging down his leggings instead. He swore crudely in Elvish, making Or'Shal pause a moment. "And no, my mother never did no such thing. Little brat of an elf."

Despite his protests, Trysten was successfully bared, the leggings pulled down to mid-thigh. He was not at all fond of the idea that his faintly glowing buttocks were exposed to the gaze of an _orc_ , but he could do nothing except try to hold his tongue again in the hope it would all end sooner.

"Now we'll get somewhere," was all Or'Shal said before his hand began to crack down again. The crisp smacks against bare flesh positively rang through the room, and Trysten abandoned all hope of being quiet. He began to gasp and make pained little cries that he attempted to cut off, only succeeding in strangling them so they sounded most strange. It was as though removing a thin piece of fabric was all it took to make the orc's hand ten times as firm, when really it was just that Or'Shal had begun to spank him much harder.

"I've got an afternoon to waste fixin' a window now, thanks to ye," he said between blows, nevertheless keeping his focus so well that his rhythm was not broken at all. "I've got a lot of potions to make, boy. I don't like to brag, but orcs like me are rare, and I guess ye could say I'm pretty important. Since ye won't fix my window like a decent soul, I've got to do it myself, _and_ spend time with a bratty little elf across my knees."

"You could have just let me go!" Trysten gasped. His bottom had begun to feel as though he had fallen asleep with his back to a campfire, that is, if he had been mere inches away from it and naked as well. "You didn't have to do this! Ah-" He realized he had been kicking his legs in midair as he was getting spanked, nowhere near able to reach the floor, and tried to stop.

"Consequences, boy! Just how much do ye need to get walloped before I've got that in yer head? I suggest ye think about apologizin' so we can have this done with." Or'Shal did not seem to be slowing or tiring at all, steadily raining hard smacks down on his burning bottom, and Trysten released a quiet wail of despair to think that this could get even _worse_.

"A-Alright! I'm sorry, please stop," he groaned, feeling himself go limp finally. He had to let go, because the pain was beginning to seep further into him in a way he was not sure he understood.

The absence of painful blows was so jarring for a moment that Trysten felt disoriented. "Hopefully ye mean that," he heard Or'Shal grunt quietly. "Because I've no more time for this." Still, he was not let up, and he could feel the orc moving and taking an object from one of the nearby tables. A moment later, the hand returned, but it was soothing this time, spreading some sort of salve that minimally eased the pain. It smelled of... Roses?

"Yer pretty raw back here," Or'Shal commented. "Ye deserved that, but I'm not heartless." Trysten stayed silent, trying to process what was happening, though he remained oddly focused on the scents that had now been called to his attention. He would fully have expected an orc to smell foul, like rotting carrion and unwashed skin, but all he had noticed was the scent of drying herbs, lavender in particular, and the aroma of baking bread. From the oven? Of course. He had been too distraught to place it before.

"In fact, I'm a very nice orc, I'll have ye know." Trysten found himself lifted up and placed back on his feet, and he scrambled to pull up his leggings while his face blazed almost as hotly as his backside. In another moment, his chin was lifted again, and he looked straight into Or'Shal's eyes. "But I don't tolerate childish behavior, whether it's from a young orc, _or_ a young elf. And if ye come back here to cause trouble again, ye'll like the result even less."

Trysten swallowed hard, barely managing a nod. "I-I am sorry, sir, really... I won't, again." He had no intention of returning at the moment. What he really wanted now was a place to hide from his shame.

"None o' this 'sir,'" Or'Shal replied, almost sounding cheery. "I'll just have to take yer word for it-- Ah, my bread. The other reason I had to stop."

The elf still could not move, dumbly watching as Or'Shal removed a tray from the oven bearing what looked like quite a beautiful loaf of bread. The orc began slicing it with a large knife, his back turned, and Trysten wondered if he had been dismissed. He finally moved, beginning to edge toward the door without paying much more attention to what else was happening.

"Trysten." The orc's tone was kindly, but he still tensed up as he waited to see what could possibly come next. "I meant what I said. But I wish ye well. Ye've got work to do, and all. Much as I hate to see this war goin' on."

The elf stayed where he was, his confused thoughts swirling all over again. "I don't know," was all he mumbled, to his own regret, and then Or'Shal seemed to gently usher him out the door.

"Think about it." Those were the last words he heard from the orc, as he had begun to walk quickly, out into the fresh air and dappled sunlight of the forest.

\-----

It was a few minutes before Trysten felt comfortable stopping. Or'Shal had not followed him, he felt sure. Nevertheless, he looked back in the direction of the orc's house as he finally rubbed at his sore backside in an almost absentminded way.

He abruptly realized there was a lingering, delicious smell. With a trembling hand, he reached into the pocket of his jerkin and found a thick slice of bread wrapped in cloth, still slightly warm and fragrant with rosemary. He was so baffled by this that he only stared at it for a long time.

It had been the strangest day of his life. He had met an orc, of all things, an orc who was an apothecary and a fortune teller and lived secluded in a forest and baked bread. Furthermore, he had found himself turned over this orc's knee for what had definitely been a sound spanking, one he had probably deserved when it came down to it.

"More than strange," he mumbled, breaking off a piece of the bread and eating it, finding it just about melted in his mouth with an incredible flavor. What a strange but ultimately _kind_ being Or'Shal seemed. It confused Trysten to think that he was both so angry and so intrigued at the same time.

He would not report this to his commander. He would make up some story about losing his weapon in a surprise orc attack, lead them off the trail of this particular orc. Because for some reason, he thought he might not mind stumbling across Or'Shal again.

But for now, all Trysten was of a mind to do was get home, enjoy the rest of his bread, and have a short nap on his bed, face-down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the interest I received in continuing this one! I am very happy to be writing it, as I enjoy these characters quite a lot and have a lot more story I feel I can tell.
> 
> In this chapter, Trysten spends quality time with a friend and undertakes another trip to the house in the woods, where he learns he is very unlucky when it comes to glass objects...

"Is there such a thing as an orcish apothecary?"

The question had come idly one late afternoon two weeks after the incident in the forest. Trysten was stretched out on his narrow bunk in the barracks, a place he only stayed when expected to be on active duty. He had a much nicer home, and a much nicer _bed_ further within Suran's interior, and he would have preferred to be there at the moment.

The face that suddenly appeared over the upper bunk's edge featured wide eyes that soon crinkled along the edges as the owner smiled. A long, dark yellow braid snaked its way over the edge as well, hanging next to this undeniably handsome face. "Are you alright, Trysten? You've been asking some unusual questions today."

"I am _fine_ , Lhys," the other elf grumbled, with a slight glare. "I just want to know if there is such a thing."

"Questions like that shouldn't come out of nowhere." With nimble grace, Lhys climbed down from the upper bunk without even using the ladder, getting into Trysten's instead and pulling the younger elf close against him. "I think I might be worried about you." He added a tender kiss to Trysten's forehead, making him scowl.

"Would you at least answer it?" he snapped, squirming slightly. Trysten cared very much for Lhys, and the feeling was mutual, but they were not lovers in the true definition of the word. Lhys had trained him as a scout, and they were occasionally bedmates (especially when the nights were cold,) yet they had never made love and were at most far closer than regular friends could consider being. Trysten had never questioned this, but he would have seen the truth behind it if only he knew how to pay better attention to others.

Lhys sighed but deliberately pulled Trysten even closer, rubbing his lower back with a tender hand. "Mind your attitude, youngling. To answer the question, yes, I suppose there must be. How else would they heal themselves? Bandage their wounds over with rags and hope for the best? I'm certain they must suffer from diseases and sicknesses as well, filthy as they are. So yes, I would imagine they do have apothecaries. I'm quite sure they are not intelligent enough to be named as such, though."

Keeping silent, Trysten attempted to absorb this information. Of course, it made sense. There were orcish apothecaries, and Or'Shal had been one of them. Lhys's disparaging statements about orcs made him uncomfortable, however. Or'Shal had been clean and obviously very smart, even if the comment might hold true about orcs in general.

The soreness of Trysten's backside had faded dramatically within the following day after his encounter with the unusual orc, but he had been withdrawn and ashamed for several days after that, the memory leaving him with an uneasy feeling. It was not over the discipline, actually. It was over the sense that he had truly deserved what he received. Strangely, he wished he could find a way to make it up to Or'Shal, though he imagined they might never meet again.

"What about fortune-tellers? Do orcs have fortune-tellers?"

This next question had been blurted out quickly and without warning, and Lhys leaned back to look at Trysten, this time not smiling at all. "You are... _certain_ you're alright?" He reached up with one hand to feel the younger elf's forehead, his long fingers cool against the warmer skin.

"I am fine, stop that!" Trysten huffed rudely, yanking away. "I'm asking questions, and you are being damned annoying, Lhys!"

The older elf's expression grew slightly more detached, his voice sterner. "Youngling, that is enough disrespectful language from you." He took Trysten's chin in his hand instead, leveling his gaze before he began to relax again. "Please stop. There are times when I feel I could just shake you."

Flushing pink, Trysten averted his eyes. He could not help but think that Or'Shal would have suggested a different method of dealing with him. Besides, why did he even let Lhys get away with calling him things like 'youngling?' He was only five years the elder! It must be the unusual affection they shared.

"I'm sorry, Lhys," he mumbled. "I only want you to take me seriously."

The blonde elf had relaxed completely by then and was giving him a fond but faintly exasperated smile. "Politeness will go far with that." He leaned in, brushing their lips together in a gentle kiss, then began to tidy loose strands of Trysten's auburn hair. "So. Orcish fortune-tellers. I would say no. It doesn't seem likely, does it? What connection have they with the divine? Would the cards respond beneath their clumsy fingers? How would they even _hold_ such delicate objects? No. It seems ridiculous."

Fortune-telling was indeed a divine art in the Elves' world. The spirit of the Celestial Mother reached down to touch the cards of the devoted fortune teller, prompting when they would be dealt and in which order. Trysten had only visited a teller once and gone away feeling unsure if he had enjoyed it. There was no doubt it was real, but he had always been skittish regarding spiritual practices.

"Very well. I think you are right, thank you," he said quietly. Or'Shal had likely been making that part up, even if he really was an apothecary. Not to mention an incredible baker. The memory of that delicious bread had been nearly as strong as that of the punishment.

"Now, won't you tell me why you are asking such strange things? Please, my dearest Trysten?" Lhys cooed in a soft voice, returning to massaging his back hopefully.

"It was just... They were just thoughts I had. I was curious, that is all. Forgive my childish notions, Lhys," he tried weakly, realizing he would not know what to do if the older elf persisted. There was no chance he could possibly tell Lhys of what happened that day.

As it was, Lhys seemed weary of trying to coax the information out of him, and at least temporarily accepted the explanation given. "You were always quite curious, youngling," he whispered, shuffling his body closer. Soon the pair of elves were embracing in a tender manner just short of passion, their bodies flush and legs tangled. Many sweet, warm kisses were traded between their soft lips; Lhys, ever the more dominant, kept his hand gently against Trysten's lower back. Both could feel the other's undeniable arousal pressing close, but as usual, nothing further happened, and neither seemed unsatisfied with that.

"I want you to take a short leave from your duties, Trysten," the younger elf eventually heard the elder murmur. There was a faint sensation of kisses being pressed in a line down the side of his neck, and he blearily tried to open his eyes.

"What for?"

"I'm concerned about you. That is all. I think you will be fine, but a break would do you good, wouldn't it?" Lhys's hand was soothingly caressing his side, and Trysten could not help but feel he was right.

"I will, then." Even though he was drifting into sleep now, he knew exactly what he would do with this leave.

He would go into the forest and try to find Or'Shal again.

\-----

Not two days later, Trysten found himself setting out from Suran dressed in comfortable traveling clothes, the sun still hanging low. It bled into the horizon, turning part of the sky crimson with the promise of heat to come later in the day.

For now, the air was pleasantly cool enough for the elf to be wearing a cloak woven of lighter fabric. It swirled around his feet at every step as he left the gates of the city and immediately turned off the path, forging a way through tall grass toward the outskirts of the forest. He knew his directions and how to find his way back to Suran once more.

The problem was finding Or'Shal's home a second time.

The first time had been luck, or perhaps ill fate, depending on how he looked at it. Yet here he was, headed back to see an _orc_ who had punished him for breaking a window, so it must not be the worst experience of his life.

Even now, the memory brought him a small rush of shame. He had done wrong, of course, and also been rude and demanding of someone who had meant him no harm. But getting turned over someone's knee and spanked like a naughty child, no matter by who, was undoubtedly a shameful experience for someone of his age, well deserved or not.

Trysten attempted to forget all of this as he moved forward, noticing the trees were growing closer together now. The orc's home had been in a more open area, with plenty of low-growing vegetation and taller bushes that tangled together to impede easy progress. He decided to keep walking, with the belief that he certainly _knew_ where he was going, being a scout in the Elvish army.

An hour later, he concluded that he must be lost.

The forest looked the same no matter which direction he turned: the same plants, the same trees, the same bird calls he heard over and over again. Trysten felt ready to scream but settled for the next best thing, which was calling out loudly and hoping to be heard.

"Orc!" The word echoed among the trees, and the birds fell silent, but there was no other reaction. Begrudgingly, he yelled, "Or'Shal! I'm trying to find you!"

There was still no response, and Trysten sighed loudly in frustration. "This is some form of sorcery." Which was ridiculous, because orcs could not cast spells. Or could they? He had not asked Lhys that. It stood to reason that if orcs had no connection to the divine, they could also not cast spells, as it called upon the same powers.

Rather than trying harder, Trysten gave up. It was better than throwing a tantrum in the forest, which he was all too close to doing. The minute he did so, his steps almost randomly turned in a different direction than before, and the plants began to change.

Within ten minutes, the elf had wandered back into the area where he had previously found the shack. Indeed, now he could see it through the thick row of branches ahead of him. He made a relieved and happy sound, striding forward quickly and stopping just short of the plant-draped building.

How was he to announce himself? It felt entirely too awkward. Finally, still hesitant, he lifted a hand to rap on the only space of the door that was not covered in green. "Or'Shal? It's me, Trysten," he said, leaning close.

Nothing at all, and no movement within. Trysten bit his lip and reached for the door latch, lifting it slowly and carefully.

"Hello?" His voice sounded hollow within the room as he entered, closing the door behind him. There was no one inside, but it did not seem as though the shack was abandoned. He walked toward the fireplace, lowering a hand close to the ashes, and found it faintly warm.

So, Or'Shal had stepped out. Surely he would not mind Trysten staying to wait for him inside. His gaze wandered over to the myriad of interesting items within the central area of the building; he would not be bored during the wait.

Trysten's curiosity was thorough. He touched many of the dry plants with light fingers, trying to guess what they were with the minimal knowledge of plants that he possessed. Similarly, he had to feel through the pelts stacked along one of the walls, marveling at how soft and wonderfully cured they were. Or'Shal seemed to have more talents than the elf could expect.

The glassware equipment for brewing potions looked delicate, and Trysten only tapped on it lightly before leaving it alone. The multitude of small bottles was more interesting, anyway. Inside them were many objects he could not even begin to identify, some liquid and some solid, in a rainbow of colors, and he found himself wanting to know more about all of them.

It was impossible to resist one round bottle, filled with what seemed like the downy fluff from a young bird. Excited that he had potentially identified it, Trysten lifted it up and pulled out the cork, with the idea that he could feel how soft it was without much trouble. That was until the contents abruptly appeared to dissolve in front of his eyes, startling him so much that he jerked his arm backward and dropped it.

The bottle bounced off the table it had been sitting on, then landed on the floor in more pieces than it had started as. At least that count was only four, as it could have splintered into tiny fragments instead. Panicked, Trysten bent down to pick up the four pieces while avoiding the sharp edges as best he could, hurriedly walking to hide them underneath one of the furs near the top of the stack. Or'Shal would never know. Of course, he would, but not until Trysten had left, or at least some time in the far future.

Just as that guilty thought crossed his mind, he heard the door beginning to open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you came away with the impression that Trysten is utterly clueless about the way Lhys feels about him... Yes, yes you are correct. The most clueless elf that ever existed. He is absolutely dense when it comes to closer relationships.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trysten gets his fortune told, and (hopefully) learns another lesson while in Or'Shal's home.

Trysten moved back to the center of the room, hoping his expression was neutral. Here he was, _still_ breaking Or'Shal's property like a common vandal, and the thought of being in trouble with the massive orc a second time was mortifying.

"Back again, eh, boy? I take it ye didn't get enough the last time."

Despite the gruff tone of this greeting, Or'Shal was eyeing him warmly, a surprised sort of smile on his broad face. Clearly, he had not expected to see Trysten again. There was no apron this time, but the orc's clothing was well-worn and appeared somewhat dusty, the scent of the forest clinging to him. A large basket was hanging over one arm, containing what looked to be a wide variety of herbs and even a few vegetables, their brilliant colors gleaming against the greenery.

"It's not that!" Trysten replied quickly, blushing. Or'Shal only shrugged and carried on with what he was doing, bringing the basket further into the room and setting it on one of the emptier tables. "I only came back because I... I have a question for you."

Now that he was here, the elf could not seriously entertain the thought of apologizing further for what had happened last time. Or'Shal turned to look at him and nodded, starting to lift items from the basket out onto the tabletop. "Well, leaving aside yer trespassin', the pursuit of knowledge is admirable. So, ask me what you will, Trysten."

It took a few moments for Trysten to realize that the orc was teasing him and not angry he was there in the slightest. "Yes. It was just that you weren't here, and I didn't know what else to do. It was a miracle I even found you again, really. Why did the forest become so confusing around here?"

"Minor charm," the orc grunted. He had left the ingredients and gone to pile more wood into the fireplace; Trysten saw nothing else in his hands, no form of flint or stone at all, yet a spark flared suddenly and caught the branches on fire nearly all in an instant. "Like that one. But my home's protected. No one intentionally seeking it will find it, not without one of my personal marks. Cuts back on the amount of returning guests. Not that there's been any but ye." He faced Trysten again, watching him. "Go on."

"I see," the elf mumbled, in a slight amount of awe that he quickly shook off. New questions boiled away in his mind, but he had to put them aside for now. "That brings me to it, actually. Are you really a fortune-teller? My friend told me that's impossible. Orcs don't worship the Celestial Mother. Why would you lie to me? I have been to a teller once before, and her practice was nothing like what I see here."

Or'Shal folded his arms, gazing at Trysten in a familiar, less than pleased way. "Orcs don't, no. But yer friend is misinformed otherwise. We can tell fortunes, just most of us don't. The Mother answers us if we want to call. She'll answer anyone. Most folks just don't care. I do it because it's a rare skill among my kind and helpful for me as well."

Stubborn, Trysten frowned right back. "I'm not sure I believe you. Maybe you should prove it."

The orc's expression became stern for a moment. "There ye go again with yer rudeness. Must be in yer nature. Alright, elfling brat, it seems I have to show ye."

Trysten drew back in alarm, but relaxed again once Or'Shal only went to collect something from the far corner of the room. He brought it to the table and pushed the vegetables aside, sitting down heavily in a chair and gesturing for the elf to do the same.

Sitting cautiously in a chair that was rather too big for him, Trysten watched as Or'Shal held up a deck of cards, as small as any he had seen before, despite Lhys' concern about the delicacy of such items under orcish fingers. "Now, I'll ask ye to be quiet, as this takes some concentration at first."

Trysten dutifully said nothing, leaning forward to watch what the orc would do. His large hands had utterly enveloped the cards within them, and his eyes were closed, leaving the elf free to study him without being observed. He supposed Or'Shal was handsome... for an orc. His features were even, and his skin, while definitely green, did not appear rough or unpleasant in any other way. The long black ponytail over his shoulder was still tidy, and he knew those eyes were a deep and piercing amber, knowledgable and sometimes kind, sometimes forbidding. As Trysten was not particularly interested in Or'Shal beyond as a curiosity, these observations were mainly idle.

As he was still staring straight at the orc without actually watching what was going on, it startled him so much when Or'Shal's eyes opened that he jumped back somewhat in his chair. Or'Shal merely quirked an eyebrow at him, no doubt with the foolishness of elves in mind, and Trysten blushed as he sat up straight again.

"I'm through asking," Or'Shal said almost casually, beginning to shuffle the cards. It was so miraculous that he managed to hold them that Trysten almost forgot to question further.

"That was all? You only closed your eyes," he said haughtily, earning another stern glance.

"Ye don't have to pray out loud," Or'Shal sighed, seeming to decide to ignore him beyond this. "I've felt Her touch the cards, right enough. Mind yer manners, boy."

The admonition was too similar to something Lhys would say, making Trysten's nose wrinkle up in pretend distaste. Why was everyone so intent on correcting his behavior? Meanwhile, Or'Shal had finished shuffling the cards and was laying them out in careful position, drawing them from the top one at a time, but only pulling three total before he set the rest aside.

He slowly turned each of the three over, and Trysten studied them closely despite not being familiar with fortune-telling cards at all. These looked similar to the art he had seen on the cards of the Elvish teller and were all depictions of objects in differing amounts, surrounded by decorative star symbols sacred to the Mother. The first was a singular sickle, the type most commonly used for harvesting grain. The second showed ten multicolored birds, all with their wings spread in flight. The last seemed to be two trees standing far apart from each other, though they were more heavily stylized than the rest of the art.

"Hm. This is yer fortune, ye know." Trysten's eyes snapped up at these words, suddenly much more interested than before.

"Really? What does it say, you must tell me!" It was a complete reversal from his earlier attitude, a fact not lost on Or'Shal.

"Well, it says yer hide is likely to be tanned again in short order, so maybe ye should think about the way ye act."

Trysten stared at the cards with a shocked expression, starting to blush. "No, it- No, they don't! Orc, you are absolutely..." He trailed off as he looked up to finally notice the obvious amusement on Or'Shal's face. He had been so sure that the orc knew about the broken bottle. "Now who is being rude?" he demanded.

"Only as you deserve," Or'Shal replied lightly. "The Mother appreciates humor, in case ye didn't know. But no, they don't say that. Yer cards speak of personal trials, escape, and two choices... Interesting. Ye having any issues ye want to discuss, Trysten?"

The elf shook his head, still uncomfortable. "No. That sounds nothing like my life at all. In fact, I am no longer interested. You have proven nothing to me."

Or'Shal stared at him for a long, serious moment, as though looking into his thoughts. Finally, he shrugged and swept the cards back together, tidying them and closing his eyes again before getting up to replace them in their original position at the back of the room. "Suit yerself. I did try. Now, I best be getting my dinner-"

There was absolute quiet after these words, which made Trysten cautiously turn his head to see what had happened to Or'Shal. The orc was standing completely still, staring at one of the tables covered in ingredient bottles. The one that was missing a specific bottle in particular.

"Trysten. Where's my Gylas fur?"

The elf felt as though his stomach had dropped out of his body entirely. He began to get up, legs shaky. "I don't know what that is. Perhaps I should be going, if you need your dinner-"

"Trysten." He was not sure how it happened, but suddenly Or'Shal was right next to him, gripping his upper arm so that he could not escape. "The Gylas fur was there when I left. No one's been here but ye. It _is_ valuable, though I didn't expect ye as the type to be a thief. Where is it?"

There seemed to be no escape. "It... I don't know. It fell from the table and then it... vanished. I think there were fairies..." he tried cautiously, hoping to spin a credible tale.

Or'Shal was having none of it. "Fairies?" he asked with a short, sharp laugh. "Not unless I invited them. I can't believe ye would lie to me on top of it all. _Where is the bottle, Trysten?_ "

The sudden booming quality of Or'Shal's voice made Trysten shudder. "I put it under one of the hides. That reddish one. It was an accident though, I swear to you! I opened it, and the fur disappeared. I don't understand! I only dropped the bottle, and it broke. I'm sorry."

The orc stared at him during this explanation, then nodded. He released the elf and went in search of the bottle, withdrawing the pieces from their hiding place and setting them out on their original table. Then he faced Trysten again, hands propped on his hips.

"Gylas fur, because ye don't know, is sensitive to a combination of light and air. It can only exist in the darkest parts of the night, to be precise, unless it's kept as I had it. Do ye know how much trouble it causes for me to need to look for another Gylas?"

The information was rather fascinating, but Trysten had little time to consider it. "I could... pay...?"

"Oh, ye'll pay." Two strides were all it took to bring him close to the elf again, and he captured Trysten's jaw in a firm yet still gentle grip. "And I think ye know the only way. Tell me, Trysten."

His mouth dry, Trysten shook his head frantically. "No, please. I swear I'll never break _anything_ else again-"

"Elfling brat, ye'll tell me right now."

The tone left no room for argument. Trysten looked away from those insistent amber eyes as his own lower lip began to tremble. "A spanking," he finally mumbled, so embarrassed he felt he could just vanish like the Gylas fur.

"That's correct, boy, a sound spanking. Yer nowhere close to the type that learns their lesson the first time." Trysten was hardly aware of what was happening, as again it was so fast. Or'Shal was removing his cloak and tossing it aside, but instead of walking the elf to the bed this time, he simply propped a foot against the lower rung of a chair. He then lifted Trysten quite easily off the floor to be deposited face down over the orc's single bent leg. This left the elf's arms and legs dangling on either side, which was much more embarrassing than last time. It was almost as though Or'Shal was too impatient to wait on getting started.

"I promise, I really won't, I promise-"

"Save yer breath for all the hollerin' yer about to do," Or'Shal cut in, his broad hand abruptly landing across the seat of Trysten's leggings in a resounding slap. "I still can't believe this. Coming here again, breaking something _else_ , even more valuable this time, and then lying to me. It might have been alright, maybe, except for the lying. I can forgive a curious accident. But yer such a brat that ye'd blame yer own mistakes on someone else. Not to mention the fact ye touched everything in here, close enough!"

Trysten squirmed as best he could, the first blow stinging through the fabric. "How do you even know- Ahh!"

Or'Shal did not seem interested in conversation at the moment, much like the first time. All he gave then were hard swats that sounded too loud within the room, and Trysten managed to limit himself to small exclamations of discomfort as his legs kicked slightly, and his hands reached out as though they wanted to grip anything in reach for support. There was nothing within reach, however, and the orc continued spanking him thoroughly, the whole of his backside quite warm by the time Or'Shal stopped.

"I _know_ because ye moved so much of it. Everything was in its proper place when I left." Or'Shal's large fingers gripped the waistband of Trysten's leggings, peeling them down and baring him, to the elf's immense dismay despite knowing it had been coming. "And then you try telling me about 'fairies.' I ought to call for a few right now. They'd get a good laugh at the sight of yer red bottom on display."

Trysten kicked one leg desperately, hoping to be set down, because the thought of anyone finding delight in witnessing him being spanked was simply awful. "Please don't do that-"

"I'd have to stop, and I'm not about to do that." Or'Shal brought his palm down, and the ringing smack against bare flesh actually caused the elf to yell as it had been suggested he might before. "I want ye to remember this, and stop touching anything that doesn't belong to ye, and show some respect to yer elders, besides. Maybe I'll be able to thrash a lesson into ye yet."

Trysten whimpered what sounded like an agreement, but Or'Shal was not showing any mercy. The elf suspected mercy might not be deserved, anyway. Blow after blow landed heavily on his unprotected bottom, the tempo much faster than the last time. Trysten whimpered more, yelped, kicked his legs and nearly cried, and still the spanking continued in an unceasing torrent.

It took some time before Trysten realized the swats had slowed. Now they were coming hard and precise against the very tops of his thighs. The entirety of his lower half felt as though it was on fire, so it was hard to discern. "Ye ready to be a good boy now?"

This sort of childish language used against him was what broke Trysten the rest of the way. "Yes, sir. I honestly... I really will. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please..."

A tear dripped off the end of his nose, and then Or'Shal was lifting him up and setting him on his own unsteady legs. Trysten's heart raced in a panic as the orc suddenly took one of his pointed ears in a firm grip, gazing down at him sternly. "Good. Because if ye come back here and cause trouble again, I will march ye out into the forest just like this and cut a switch to use on yer bare backside. I'm done with this sort of thing. Do ye understand me?"

Unable to look up, Trysten bit his lip desperately. It was impossible for him to imagine if a switch could hurt more than an orc's massive hand. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, his expression just beginning to crumple. "I'm truly sorry-"

"There." Or'Shal's tone was exhausted yet friendly again as he pulled the elf close. Trysten's head only came to the orc's lower ribcage, so he buried his face there to sniffle against the earthy scent of the fabric. "Not too many tears, alright? I forgive ye. But I am deadly serious about what I said. And do stop calling me 'sir.'"

Thankfully, Trysten really did not cry for long. Only a few minutes had passed when his eyes were dry, and Or'Shal released him, fetching the salve and making Trysten stand still while he applied it. He should have been embarrassed, but he was feeling strangely compliant by now. Being punished like this was making a sort of sense to him that he could not understand in the slightest.

Once Trysten had been taken care of, and his leggings painfully eased up again over his raw skin, they both seemed more relaxed. "Now that's out of the way. I'll wash my hands and see about that dinner." Or'Shal paused, looking over. "Yer more than welcome to stay and share. I wouldn't like to send ye away with nothing but a troublesome fortune and a sore bottom."

The orc began to bustle around the room, and Trysten did not agree to stay, but did not leave, either. He was quiet up until the point he tried to sit down in a chair to wait, then sprang up again with a hiss of pain as though scalded. Which his rear basically had been.

Or'Shal laughed somewhere behind him, and Trysten scowled before he relented with a weak chuckle. It was faintly amusing, after all. He sat again, squirming against the wooden seat, but decided it was better to act as though it did not bother him.

It wasn't long before the elf was presented with a sizable clay bowl filled with a sort of vegetable soup, aromatic with herbs, and the faintest hint of spice. This came in addition to a chunk of bread which, while not fresh, was almost as good as the piece Or'Shal had sent with him the time before.

"My bowls are a bit big for ye," Or'Shal commented, sitting across from him. "It's alright. Eat up, get some strength back."

Trysten had not realized how ravenous he was; the ache in his stomach almost outweighed the throbbing of his backside. He ate hungrily, nearly finishing the entire bowl of soup, the most delicious he had ever tasted, even better when dipping pieces of bread into it. There was little talk before they had finished, but then Or'Shal began speaking to him about the forest, his home, and more about what he provided to anyone in need of help. The afternoon wound on with Trysten getting caught up in everything Or'Shal told him, and even nearly forgetting his discomfort until he was finally glancing at the shadows outside.

"I had best leave," he said slowly. Was that reluctance in his voice? Why? "I want to be back in the city by nightfall, and I did not tell my friend I was leaving, besides. He might look for me."

Trysten stood up and began to awkwardly make his way to the door, unsure of what to say. He paused in front of it, then noticed his cloak being draped back around his shoulders. "Trysten," Or'Shal said, choosing his words carefully. "It was good having ye here. Yer not the worst sort of company. If that attitude can be improved, that is."

The elf turned and looked up, at last feeling as though he had a genuine smile to offer. "Thank you, Or'Shal. For the meal and conversation. I will _not_ thank you for anything else," he added with a small laugh.

"Ye might someday," Or'Shal chuckled in return. "Here. Open it when yer home. Ye can share with yer friend, though you might have to come up with a story about where they came from."

The orc had offered him another cloth-wrapped bundle, and Trysten accepted it without question. "Thank you. That fortune... That wasn't real, was it?"

The question had come suddenly, almost as an afterthought. Or'Shal gazed down at him seriously, weighing the answer. "Could be. Depends on what ye do with yer life from now on. Seems like it might be accurate for now. The birds are a good sign, though. Take care, Trysten."

Once again, the elf found himself ushered through the door and outside. He set his sights on the direction to Suran and started walking without looking back.

Despite Or'Shal's suggestion, he opened the bundle halfway before he reached the city. It was filled with biscuits of various shapes and sizes, a sweet scent rising up from the cloth, and he did not need to eat them to know they would melt in his mouth.

Trysten stopped walking to stare at them, then began laughing more than he had in days. "Or'Shal, you are so odd," he commented aloud, wrapping the treats together again. "Baking biscuits that you gave to an elf. Not the strangest thing you've done, I'll wager."

He strode on faster, his spirits light. There was a residual sting over his backside, and the disturbing fortune hanging over his head, but for some reason, he was feeling happier than usual. It was better not to question that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for your comments/support! Always feel free to comment if you like the story and feel so inclined. I guess it's weird, but I still get a little embarrassed posting stories like this, which are literally my favorite things in the whole world. Your kind words have helped me feel better, so thank you. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trysten finds Lhys awaiting his return and already begins thinking about his next visit to Or'Shal's home.

Shadows were drawing down around Suran when Trysten approached the arched gates of the city and slipped inside. He made his way immediately among the elaborately decorated buildings and domed roofs of the central area, turning down a street that led to a row of comfortable looking homes that all bore the sigil of those who were employed in the Great Army of Suran. Being in the army did have certain enviable benefits.

Before he reached his own home at the end of the row, his gaze was caught by a different shadow in front of him. Glancing up further, Trysten saw the tall, slim form of who could only be Lhys standing a little way up the street. He appeared to be in the act of turning gracefully and glancing back at Trysten, though his face was shadowed by the setting sun, and his expression could not be seen.

"Do you need help?" Trysten called, faintly amused. "I only just got back from my leave..."

Lhys's gently gliding walk brought him closer, and now Trysten could see that he smiled. "I was coming to look for you. I thought you might be home already, and I missed seeing you in the barracks. So..."

The older elf trailed off, apparently waiting for something. Trysten looked around for a moment then shrugged, taking his best guess. "Would you like to come in?"

This seemed to be the correct question. "I would be delighted, darling," Lhys laughed, standing at his side and starting to walk forward again, slipping an arm loosely around Trysten's waist as he did so. "I have missed you too much, as I've said. And I want to hear all about your adventure!"

Trysten's steps faltered. What had he meant by that? "Adventure? There has been no adventure. I merely walked to the port city for the day. The sea air has surely made a difference, and I feel much better."

They were walking again, but Lhys hummed to himself in thought. "I wonder. You do not smell of the sea, as it usually seems to linger when we visit the port city for any more than a few hours. But I suppose you might have spent longer walking back than usual." There was a pause, leaving Trysten with the feeling he had narrowly escaped any closer scrutiny, but only for a few moments. "And why are you walking so oddly?"

A blush crept across the redheaded elf's face. _Was_ his bottom still so sore? He hadn't thought so, but maybe it was a little. Now he was conscious that his gait was slightly stiff-legged and awkward and made every attempt to adjust it back to normal.

"I'm not. Stop being silly, Lhys. How was your day?" He kept his tone casual, though Lhys was still looking at him, his expression suggesting disbelief in general.

"I was certain that you were. But since you are stubborn as usual, it was fine. There was no scouting to be done, so I stayed to help in the stables. You are lucky to have chosen this day for a leave!"

Trysten nodded, though bringing up the army made him feel quieter again. It had suddenly brought to mind, and not for the first time, that Or'Shal should technically be an enemy.

Fortunately, the elves had arrived at Trysten's home just in time to avoid further thoughts for the moment. Trysten opened the door for them and they walked inside, Lhys beginning to make himself comfortable by removing his shoes immediately, as he had visited more than a few times. "We'll have a little something to eat, and perhaps some tea?"

Trysten agreed to this easily enough, walking them through into the main rooms of the house. It was well appointed and comfortably decorated, but it also had the air of a place that was not frequently inhabited, a sense that the building held more silence than noise.

Also familiar was Lhys taking charge, even in the younger elf's own home. It was just a more comfortable feeling to allow him to take care of little things when he seemed set on doing so. Knowing where the teapot and cups were, along with Trysten's sparse collection of tea leaves, Lhys set everything up while Trysten hung up his cloak, feeling the biscuits in the pocket and taking them out to set them on the table without thinking about it. Then he sat down to wait, his thoughts wandering until the faintest herbal scent wafted into his nose.

"Oh, what's this?" Trysten did not react fast enough to move the cloth away, and Lhys had walked over to pick up the bundle and unwrap it. "Don't these look delicious?" he asked with a curious expression once he was examining the contents. "They look professional, but... A handkerchief is an odd wrapping."

Trysten shook his head, trying to think of an explanation. "The shop was out of their usual wrappings, so they had to make do. It is perfectly clean and unused, of course. I don't know why you have to be so suspicious!"

Lhys gave him a small, exasperated frown. "I was not suspicious, Trysten. But now you are acting suspiciously."

"I am not," Trysten huffed, annoyed more at himself now. "Let's stop talking about it because it's not important anyway."

"Youngling, please," Lhys sighed, turning back to the teapot, which had just begun to whistle on the tiny stovetop area above the fire. "I have missed you all day, and only wanted to spend some time with you, and you are being surly with me."

The mild scolding made Trysten shrug since Lhys could not see. "I'm sorry. I guess I am only tired." It was at least partially true.

"Some tea and these lovely biscuits might perk you up," the blonde elf suggested, setting a steaming cup in front of him before taking a seat opposite with one of his own.

"Thank you," Trysten mumbled, slightly ashamed of himself. He had never really thought about it before, but how in the world did Lhys put up with him sometimes? His time with Or'Shal was perhaps teaching him to be more mindful of how he acted in the presence of others, but without the orc's massive form present to remind him of the danger of imminent physical punishment, it was not as easy to remember to watch his behavior.

The biscuits took the problem off his mind. Buttery and sweet, they really did melt in his mouth just as he had expected. Lhys was suitably impressed as well, and Trysten had to fight back the urge to brag about how good of a baker his new friend was. It could have been presumptuous to call himself and Or'Shal friends, but he found the concept appealing.

"These are delightful. You will have to take me to the shop where you purchased them the next time we visit the port. I certainly would not mind bringing back a few dozen." Lhys had actually eaten more of the biscuits than the younger elf had by that point, and was just beginning to sip at his hot tea.

Trysten chuckled; he had forgotten Lhys's sweet tooth. "Of course. I would not mind going again... Soon." He took a sip of tea as well, nearly burning his tongue before slowing down to blow on it gently first.

Naturally, he was not thinking about the port at all, as he had not been there. He was thinking about Or'Shal's little home, with barely enough space for his multitudes of plants and ingredients, let alone his considerable height and bulk. The mystery of why Trysten was so drawn to returning was still beyond his knowledge for the moment, especially considering the fact he had been turned over the orc's knee _both_ times like a misbehaving child. Not that he hadn't deserved it, at least a little.

It could be that Trysten was genuinely fascinated by the lifestyle of someone who had chosen to be more reclusive. Then there were the incredibly interesting potions and charms Or'Shal worked with, not to mention the fortune-telling... Or it could just be that Or'Shal genuinely seemed to care? Even though Trysten was an elf, a possible enemy, he had been given a chance and shown great and unexpected kindness. The thought warmed him, bringing a small smile to his face. But there was still the war, an intrusion against his more pleasant thoughts.

"Something on your mind?" The quiet voice was Lhys, of course, who was leaning toward him over the table with a soft expression. Trysten realized he had been staring into space between his friend and the wall, and likely appearing incredibly distracted while doing so.

"No. Although... Yes. Maybe a little." He cleared his throat, staring at Lhys's nearly empty teacup instead. "Why are we in the war?"

The silence that followed this question finally made Trysten look up again to see the older elf with a concerned yet sympathetic smile. "Ah. It is bothering you? You are in the army, it makes sense if you find life more stressful than most for now. But to answer your question, you already know why. The orcs have been on the move in the south, seizing lands that do not belong to them, some of our most fertile farmlands among them. Sadly, they have burned some of the smaller farming towns and taken the latest harvests for themselves. Those lands also support Suran, Trysten. We must fight to return their control to the elves, or there will be even more suffering once winter arrives."

Trysten did know this, but the retelling was what he had needed to think through the situation again. He knew the elves' perspective, but what if Or'Shal might have a different one? "Yes, I am a bit stressed, I suppose," he offered, looking for a way to make Lhys believe him. "Maybe if I think hard enough, I can find the solution to the entire war, and we can all rest easier. Would you like to help me?"

Lhys's soft, musical laugh danced in his ears. "I would like to, dearest Trysten. The orcs are horrible beasts, so I am not certain we will come up with such a marvelous solution, but we could certainly try."

"I'm sure they are not all horrible beasts," Trysten suddenly snapped, though he flushed guiltily afterward. "I mean... I don't know. Lhys, I think I might like to lie down for now."

The blonde elf nodded, starting to tidy up the table in a way that made Trysten feel sure he was only doing it to fight a sudden worry. Nevertheless, once he had finished and they both stood to walk to the door, Lhys stopped him in the entry hall with a hand on his elbow.

"Trysten, I know you are tired," he murmured, bending his head lower almost as though afraid of not being heard despite the house's silence. "But if I asked to stay the night with you, what would you say?"

Their faces were so close together that Trysten wondered if Lhys might kiss him. "I... Well, you are supposed to be in the barracks overnight while on duty, Lhys..."

To his surprise, Lhys laughed, though it sounded more pained than mirthful. "Youngling, I just wish you could open your mind and heart enough to understand." He did not kiss Trysten's lips, but his cheek instead, wishing him a quiet good evening before slipping out the door.

Trysten stayed where he was as minutes dragged by, staring after Lhys and wondering what he meant by those words. At last, he wearily wandered back into the kitchen, with the idle wish that his friend had at least embraced him for a time before leaving. He did enjoy that, and the lack of it was painful for him, even if he did not understand why.

While tugging at the corner of the cloth to fold it better over the remaining biscuits, the other end slid open. Trysten stared at it, seeing a mark there he had not noticed before. It was an oval with a line running through the middle, top to bottom. Something Or'Shal had said suddenly appeared in his mind as though he was dreaming: _But my home's protected. No one intentionally seeking it will find it, not without one of my personal marks._

Was this Or'Shal's mark...?

Trysten decided right then he would return the next time he could manage to escape his duties, bringing the marked handkerchief with him. Obviously, he had to test it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trysten has an idea in mind and needs to convince both Lhys and Or'Shal for separate assistance.

"Just this once. Please? I swear it's only this time, it won't happen again."

It was early, before dawn, not a week after the last time they had been at Trysten's house. Lhys was sitting on Trysten's bunk and pulling on his boots, glancing up to eye the younger elf sternly. The beds around them were all empty, a sure sign that they were both late.

"I still cannot believe you are asking if I will tell a lie for you," Lhys sighed, finished with his boots but remaining seated, still looking at Trysten in disbelief. "For what purpose do you intend to vacate your duties today?"

Fretfully, Trysten tugged his long braid over one shoulder, continuing to pull at it as he thought of what to say. "I only want to keep studying, Lhys. That's noble enough, isn't it? We've had so little time with all the scouting we've needed to do lately. I am much too exhausted to study by the end of each day. And you encouraged me to follow my interests, didn't you? It's just one day..."

It seemed as though Lhys would not answer at first, appearing to debate within himself, but then he finally stood up with another sigh. "I did encourage you. In fact, I was incredibly pleased and proud of you for wanting to read books, which you always hated before. However, you cannot push aside your duties in preference of your interests, Trysten. Our work is essential."

Lhys was referring to Trysten's sudden interest in reading books on the identification and medicinal use of plants. That interest was largely based on wanting to impress Or'Shal when next they met, but also because it was at least a little fascinating. The work Or'Shal did was fascinating in general, he was finding.

"I know, Lhys. But I only want one day. What if I am scouting, and I find a plant that could help a wounded soldier? The healers are forever running low on medicinal plants, we both know that. If I miss an opportunity to collect it, that is an opportunity lost. I only want to be able to help more. Besides, you know I am not a very good scout, anyway..."

Trysten's voice had lowered and he managed to put up a decent act of being dejected, sadly glancing away after making certain Lhys could see. The truth was that he really did _not_ perform as well as his companions, though it didn't bother him. If his friend thought it did, though...

"Oh, dearest Trysten." As the younger elf had hoped, Lhys moved forward and pulled him into an embrace, cradling him in his arms tenderly. "You are a fine scout, or you would be with more discipline. You are too easily distracted, you do not focus enough. But... I suppose. If you would like to help more, and it is only this once... I will tell the commander that you are feeling ill today. For all anyone knows, I personally tucked you into bed at home with the full expectation you will be feeling better tomorrow. Do you understand, youngling?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you so much," Trysten murmured, luckily able to hide his relieved smile against Lhys's shoulder. "I promise I won't disappoint you, Lhys. I will be back to my regular duties tomorrow, and it will not need to happen again. You are doing me a favor, and I will always be grateful, my friend."

As he expected, Lhys was so happy to hear him say such things that he was smiling as well when he pulled back to lean his head down closer. "Sweet Trysten," he chuckled breathlessly, leaning in so their lips met. The kiss was light at first but turned desperately passionate on Lhys's side, which Trysten did not quite understand but fully accepted and enjoyed. The older elf's hands caressed the small of Trysten's back, coming so close to touching his bottom in a sensual way that he had to fight against a sudden wave of pleasurable warmth that struck at him. But Lhys was moving away then, his eyes seeming bright and fevered.

"I will see you this evening, Trysten," he whispered, and then was gone so fast that Trysten could almost have been imagining he was there in the first place. It was necessary to sit down for a moment on his bunk, regathering his composure. If Lhys wanted to touch him there, as long as it was gentle...

Face burning, he jumped up and started to hurry out of the barracks as well, headed home to fetch his traveling cloak. The fleeting idea had been foolish; after all, he could _never_ imagine Lhys spanking him. He was much too gentle for that. Besides, he had no reason to.

\-----

Wearing his cloak, the handkerchief safely stowed in its deep pocket, Trysten was walking as quickly as he could through the forest. He was very specifically thinking about finding Or'Shal's home, as he had been last time, but this time with the benefit of the mark on the cloth that he felt certain would allow him to approach with ease. The only reason he had needed to ask for Lhys's help was his impatience. He felt he could not have waited the two weeks before another leave to come back here again.

To his immense delight, the little house appeared before him with hardly any effort at all. This time he strode up confidently to knock on the door, his arm extended bravely forward-

And then the door was open, and his hand nearly hit _Or'Shal_ , who filled the entirety of the doorway with his size.

"Ye make enough noise to wake the dead, Trysten. And yer a scout? Psh. I'm beginning to doubt everything ye tell me."

The elf jumped back, clearly startled and clutching at his chest for a moment. "I...!" He let out his breath in a rush of air, scowling at the orc. "I'm not the best scout, but that's hardly to be expected at my age. I came to visit you. May I please come in?"

"What's this sudden politeness?" Or'Shal asked with obvious mirth, though he did step aside to allow space for Trysten to enter. "Almost as though ye've had some manners beaten into ye. Or perhaps ye've come back for more of the same."

" _No_." Trysten's glare only held momentarily before he remembered to mind his attitude, forcing his expression into one he felt was more pleasantly respectful. "I am here because I wanted to see you, and that is the truth."

The orc was studying him closely, then snorted a laugh as he brushed past and further back into the room. "Well ye don't have to _pretend_."

"I'm not!" Desperately, Trysten rushed forward and placed a hand on Or'Shal's large forearm, which did stop him immediately. The young elf carefully pulled out the handkerchief and held it up, the symbol plainly showing with the way he had folded it. "See? I found this, and I thought maybe it was your mark. And I made it here with no trouble at all, even thinking very hard about finding your home!"

Or'Shal squinted down at the cloth, then nodded briefly. "That's it. So ye do have eyes, and a few wits about ye, which is good to know." Otherwise, he did not seem impressed, returning to what he must have originally been doing, which was using a mortar and pestle to grind some herbs into a coarse mixture. Trysten made himself at home by taking off his cloak, marveling that Or'Shal had the control necessary not to turn the plants straight to powder with just a touch, considering his strength.

Trysten stood in front of the table then, watching, determined not to be a bother until the orc was finished. However, he could not resist blurting out the name of the next herb that went into the mortar, too eager to impress Or'Shal.

"Lamb's ear." Or'Shal's eyes slowly turned up to Trysten, and an eyebrow was already lifting further than the other.

"That's right. In fact, ye've given the folk name, which is what orcs would typically use. And how long have ye been hiding a talent for herbs, boy?"

Trysten's chest seemed to inflate with pride. "Not long. I was inspired by you, and I began to learn as much as I could. I just don't think books are the best way to learn, honestly..."

Or'Shal did not appear to take the hint. "Books are a fine way to learn." He paused as Trysten properly identified the next few herbs he picked up, nodding seriously. "Ye seem to be doing well."

"But I could learn so much more if-" Trysten's sudden outburst slowed under the stern look the orc was giving him, but he gathered his courage enough to continue. "If you might teach me. A little. Couldn't you?"

Or'Shal was still staring at him, not seeming most impressed. "I could. But I'm not in the habit of taking apprentices, Trysten. Someday I imagined passing on my knowledge to another young orc willing to learn, to carry on the service for my people. I have no use to teach an elf, one I happen to know is a clumsy brat, besides."

Trysten's face flushed warmly, his disappointment obvious. In his imagination, Or'Shal had been more than excited about this idea. "I am not. Is it so wrong to want to repay you for all the trouble I've caused? I thought I could learn a little, and come to help you sometimes when I'm able. And you gave me your mark! Why else would you have wanted me to come back?"

Or'Shal had set the mortar and pestle down and was now folding his arms in a posture Trysten was coming to be familiar with. "I said before that yer not bad company. I never intended to teach ye anything. Ye don't need to repay me, Trysten. I took it out of yer hide, and that was enough for me. Maybe it taught ye a lesson, maybe not. But I'm not sure ye can convince me to keep ye on as any kind of help. Not with yer record of _breaking_ what belongs to me."

Trysten's eager expression had crumpled somewhat, but he was still desperate to convince Or'Shal this was a good idea. "But just... Just for a little while. Give me two months? And I can show you I'm helpful. After two months, I think I will have learned enough, and then you won't have to teach me any more. I swear to you. And if... If I ruin anything else, or mess up, or act rude or disrespectful, then... You can punish me. And I won't complain, I'll accept it. Please, Or'Shal? I only want to be a help, to repay you. Not only for my mistakes but also for the wonderful food and your company."

Or'Shal's own expression had been softening during Trysten's speech, but he still shook his head with a heavy frown as he carried on with his work. "Insufferable elf," he said quietly. "Sometimes wish my heart wasn't so tender. Alright, two months and ye'll do as yer told. If not, ye'll be turned over my knee before ye can blink. Don't ye dare think otherwise."

Trysten's gasp of surprise and delight was genuine, which appeared to soften Or'Shal further. "Of course, sir, I will do whatever you say!" He wanted to bounce up and down, childlike in his giddy feeling of success. Deep down, he had somehow known Or'Shal could not reject him.

"Ye'll start with never calling me _sir_ again," the orc huffed, turning around to search for another mortar and pestle, which he promptly handed to Trysten. "Here. Take the ear and this velvet grass, I'll show ye how to mix up some basic healing since I was working on it anyway."

\-----

The first two weeks passed quickly. Trysten could not visit every day, of course, but he slipped away after his duties in the army when possible, and even managed to coax an unhappy Lhys into covering for him another day. The older elf had not seemed to like it, but he had done it, which was what mattered to Trysten. He promised to repay his friend multiple times, not even noticing when Lhys seemed more withdrawn and sad in general now that he was disappearing so often, and did not kiss or hold him as much either, even in the limited times they spent together. Trysten felt it must be a small price to pay, unknowingly callous toward one who cared for him more deeply than anyone else.

The time spent with Or'Shal did not always go smoothly either, of course. There were instances when Trysten let his attitude slip or was unnecessarily impatient or mouthy, and those quickly earned him at least a dozen heavy swats to the seat of his pants, as the orc seemed to not want to be slowed down excessively by punishments. This was leaving aside the time when Trysten stepped on a cloud mallow plant while foraging, the only one for miles around, resulting in Or'Shal being so irritated that he had picked up the elf and tucked him under one arm, facing backward. It was the perfect position in which to bare his bottom and spank him the entire walk back to the orc's home, with a long lecture about watching his feet added in besides. The situation had been beyond humiliating, and that was even when there was no one to see or hear Trysten being carried like a sack and whimpering with his reddened backside on display under the canopy of trees.

He was _learning_ , however, no matter how it might sometimes seem. It was much faster for him than reading his books, as he tended to learn better with practice. Now he was identifying many herbs by a single leaf alone and was able to craft a good number of helpful potions, despite not having the tools to do so at his own home. Or'Shal was a patient teacher, and kind when the elf did not find him too strict and stern. However, that was what Trysten needed, and they seemed to be building a friendship beyond that of a teacher and student.

It was only after the first month was over when Trysten finally felt safe enough to ask a more important question. Or'Shal had spent the day with him, thankfully one of Trysten's actual days off, teaching him a little about the use of precious gemstones as an additional aid to healing. It had been a simple day; fortunately, one without the need for discipline, and Or'Shal had actually been baking bread for hours throughout.

Trysten sat relaxed now at the table after they had enjoyed a meal together, watching the orc's massive but careful fingers kneading yet more dough for the oven. "Why do you bake so much?" he asked, slightly amused as he slid back in the oversized chair.

"Calms me," Or'Shal grunted, by now shaping the dough into a loaf. Little flecks of rosemary showed through, promising a particularly savory taste. "Lot going on in the world. Lot ye don't see when I go out to help my people, or one comes here. Safe to say, I need a bit of help with stress. And I like bread. Who doesn't?"

Trysten had to admit it was a good point. "I'm glad it helps you. But I guess I do wonder... Why do you think we are in this war?"

Or'Shal's flour-covered fingers slowed to a stop, his shoulders hunching slightly. "Ye _know_ , surely. Orcs running low on food, raiding the elves' farmlands in the south. I don't agree with 'em, but I understand why. If the elves could be less stingy and maybe offer assistance, the burning and looting might not be necessary. But of course, all orcs are beasts, and no help should be offered to such horrible creatures."

Still Or'Shal did not move, and Trysten swallowed hard, the words touching him. It was the opinion he had shared previously, as well. How much might it have hurt Or'Shal when he had first appeared near his home and called him a beast, no better than an animal? It made him glad all over again that he was at least attempting to repay the orc.

"Not all of them are," Trysten offered quietly, something he had suggested to Lhys before. This time, he realized it went further than that. "In fact, maybe none of them are."

After another long moment of silence, Or'Shal resumed shaping the dough, setting the loaf aside before finally turning to look at Trysten. His face was composed, yet some deep, unspoken longing lay within his amber eyes. "Wish they all thought that way."

Trysten allowed Or'Shal to continue his baking unbothered, though he remained sitting and watching with a heavy heart.

It was occurring to him that he might not value his place as a scout in the army of Suran any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lhys's frustration grows; Trysten makes a reckless decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who has been reading and for your support. <3

_...cards speak of personal trials, escape, and two choices..._

Almost as though imprinted in his mind, Or'Shal's words played over again. Trysten paced from one end of the abandoned barracks room to the other, unable to think about anything else.

The weeks had passed quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the two months of teaching which the orc had promised him would be up in a matter of days. Or'Shal had expressed no further interest in keeping Trysten around as anything more than an occasional visitor, however. The elf had tried to be convincing, calling on their friendship and growing understanding of each other, but Or'Shal was resolute that he would not take Trysten as a permanent apprentice. And yet, stubborn as always, Trysten was still trying to think of a way to change his mind.

The sound of a door opening made him turn, a hopeful smile growing on his face as he saw Lhys entering the room. That smile dimmed when his taller friend strode near quickly, a serious expression firmly fixed on his handsome features.

"Trysten. I cannot believe you." The blonde elf was trembling with what might either be anger or incredible worry, and he folded his arms tightly as though trying to still himself. "You said you would not ask a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. And yet you continue to ask me."

Lhys paused, and Trysten tried to ease himself closer, speaking in a soothing tone. "I know, Lhys, I have done wrong by you. But this is... Truly, the last time. There will be no more." There was not a chance if Or'Shal would not give him one.

"I cannot believe you," Lhys said a second time. "I will not. Not after how many times you have promised the same. I have lied for you so often that our commander is beginning to suspect. He does not say so to you, but I think he will soon. Especially considering the way your performance is slipping. You are not paying the kind of close attention to detail that you need in your scouting, and someone could end up hurt due to your negligence. So no, Trysten, I will not lie for you again. You will attend to your duties, and you will show the proper level of focus, or I am certain you will be faced with a penalty. Do you want to be dismissed from the army?"

The younger elf had dropped his gaze to the floor during Lhys's speech. Perhaps that was just what he did want. Of course, his friend could not know. "I can't, Lhys, I just need another-"

Trysten stopped talking abruptly, startled when Lhys suddenly moved right in front of him, grabbing both his wrists firmly and holding them as he stared down into Trysten's eyes. Lhys did not look happy in the least, his expression sterner than the redheaded elf could ever remember seeing before, even when he was scolding. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and controlled, but with a sharper edge to it.

"Youngling, I am at my wit's end with you. I did not want to say so before, hoping you would change your mind, but I can see I was wrong. I no longer know what to say or what to _do_ to make you see sense."

Dismayed, Trysten stared up at Lhys for a moment longer before looking away again. He truly was behaving poorly toward his dear friend, and had the sudden thought that he should be grateful Or'Shal was not there to make a suggestion on how to correct that behavior.

"I am sorry, Lhys, but I... There is something I need to do. Only for a little while longer. I know you can't believe me anymore, but I'm sorry. If nothing else, please believe that." Trysten's voice was soft and strained, and he only hoped that Lhys could see the sincerity in his eyes. Maybe Lhys would forgive him, as he always did, kiss him softly and hold him close...

"I will choose to believe it," came the faint reply. Lhys almost seemed to have wilted, and he let go of Trysten and stepped back, offering neither a kiss nor the comfort of his warm arms. A painful sensation of longing took hold of Trysten's heart; he would have done almost anything to see his friend happy again, to hear sweet affectionate words from him, though Trysten was still far too thick-skulled to understand why.

Instead, Lhys began to walk away, not turning to look at Trysten again. "You will attend your duties today, youngling, because I will not lie for you again. You will focus and pay attention. That is how you can make me believe anything else from you." And then he was gone, silent and swift as he could be while on duty.

Trysten stared after him, his eyes suddenly stinging with unshed tears. Of course, Lhys was right. But now Trysten knew what he wanted to do and would not listen to the words of one wiser than him, as he must know his own heart better.

\-----

He left the barracks with speed, not headed toward the usual gathering on the outskirts of the city, but instead back to his home. No one saw him as he slunk between the shadows of buildings, using the stealth and sureness of foot he possessed when he bothered to try hard enough.

Once inside, he immediately found the only traveling pack he owned, opening it, and beginning to cram items inside haphazardly. First, he threw in as many articles of clothing as could comfortably fit, mainly tunics and leggings and breeches. It would be silly to take his teapot and cups, but he pushed them inside the mass of clothing to keep them from breaking regardless. A few other small articles made their way into the pack, though Trysten did not own many personal belongings. The decorations that remained in his home would likely be sold or transferred to whoever the house was next given to, or perhaps Lhys would take them.

_Lhys._

The loss of his friend was the only real regret Trysten could feel. What would he do without Lhys? His gentle smile, the way his eyes lit up when he was offered sweets, his musical laugh, the warmth and strange desire they seemed to share together...

After another moment, Trysten closed the pack and swung his cloak around his shoulders before picking it up, glancing around one time. Then, with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, he left the house and headed to the barracks once more, again keeping out of the sight of others.

The room where their beds were located was still quiet and empty. Trysten hurried over and dropped his pack on the floor, grabbing the ladder and clambering partway up to Lhys's bunk. He reached under the pillow and pulled out an object, dropped it into his pocket, then climbed down and was out again, sneaking his way outside of Suran and into the forest beyond before he would even be missed by anyone.

\-----

Two hours later, Trysten appeared to be lost.

Despite thinking that he had picked it up, the handkerchief with Or'Shal's mark was not anywhere in his pack, and he had rifled through it all on the forest floor twice, only resulting in chipping one of his cups on a rock. Finally, he had re-stuffed everything into the pack and flopped back in his seated position to lean against it in despair. Not only did he now have no home, but he also had no way of finding a _potential_ home.

He did not even know if Or'Shal would let him stay in his tiny living space. It did not seem likely, but he certainly had a kind enough heart and would see that Trysten really meant to leave the army and Suran behind. Either that or he would march the errant elf right back where he had come from, handing him over to his commander and recommending a hard bare-bottomed thrashing as a means of discipline for such a dreadful failure of a scout, not to mention a _deserter_. Or'Shal might even volunteer to do the job for them, and everyone would be so angry with Trysten that they would not notice he was being returned by an orc in the first place.

No, he was being ridiculous.

With a soft groan, he reached into the pocket of his cloak instead, pulling out the object he had taken from beneath Lhys's pillow. It was a small golden locket in the shape of a heart, with nothing inside and no chain attached to wear around one's neck. He had always intended to find an item to put into the locket, as well as purchasing a chain, but it had been the most he could afford when he had wanted to thank Lhys for all the time and patience spent training him.

It felt a little bad now when he thought about it. This was a gift intended for Lhys, he had given it to Lhys, but now he had taken it back. Was that stealing? He had bought it with his own money. But how would it make Lhys feel, discovering it was missing? Trysten only wanted an object to remember his friend with, and it was the only one he had access to, as he knew Lhys kept it under his pillow. There would be plenty of other things in Trysten's home that Lhys might have for a keepsake. Surely the locket could not mean so much?

For now, he decided to push it to the back of his mind, returning the heart-shaped bit of gold to his pocket, standing up, and brushing dry leaves from his cloak. He would just stop looking for Or'Shal's home and then find it.

\-----

Another hour passed. That plan had not worked either.

Trysten felt sure he was still roaming in a circle, getting more tired and frustrated by the moment, and finally just stopped and unleashed a torrent of quite vile words in the direction of the treetops. Many of those words were specific to his native language and not commonly known by any other race, which meant he was twice as surprised when a gruff voice came from behind him and to his left, clearly disdainful of the contents of Trysten's rant.

"Ye got a bad habit when yer frustrated, boy. I'd not repeat those words in front of anyone decent if I were ye. Come to think of it, ye may not even know that I make my own soap. If ye'd like to choose a fragrance, I could use a bit to clean the filth from that mouth ye have."

Trysten whirled, half elated and half annoyed to find Or'Shal standing there. The orc was eyeing him closely, dressed as he normally was but carrying a walking staff of shiny, carved wood that Trysten had never seen before. "There you are! I couldn't find your house!" he exploded rather than giving any sort of greeting.

"Calm down, Trysten," Or'Shal said firmly. "What's this all about? What're ye doing here today with that lumpy pack? And where is my mark, most importantly?"

"Can we go back to your house? We can talk there. I am so tired, I want to sit down." Trysten was overbearing without thinking about it, striding forward as though Or'Shal would take the lead soon. "I must have left that _vyr'len_ handkerchief behind. But you can give me another, though I may not need... Or'Shal-!"

The massive orc had grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him back, delivering a solid and startlingly accurate blow to his bottom with the walking stick along the way. The carved wood stung heavily even through his cloak, making Trysten yelp and immediately settle down out of fear of any more.

"I said mind yer tongue, Trysten," Or'Shal rumbled quietly. "I'm deadly serious that I'll put a bar of soap in yer mouth if ye can't manage to do that on yer own. And one more foul word right now, ye'll bend over, and I'll beat yer backside with this into the bargain." He held up the stick, making Trysten shake his head quickly.

"No, I won't curse again," he whimpered, trying to draw back even more until Or'Shal finally let him go. "But what is so wrong about it...?"

"Upsets the energies." Or'Shal was walking now, at least, moving ahead and seeming to take them toward his home at last. "There's a lot of energies around here, a lot ye can't see or feel without the proper training. And they're all positive, so yer upsetting things every time ye use that language."

"Oh." Trysten's voice was small and he was decidedly meek as he followed Or'Shal, hoping not to raise his ire again. "I'll remember that, then... There is so much I don't know yet."

The orc ignored him, continuing on his way while making less noise than even Trysten as they worked through the undergrowth.

When they finally arrived, Trysten hurried inside as though the door might be barred from his entrance. Then he dumped his pack on the floor and left it, walking over toward one of the ingredients tables and trying to steady his harsh breathing. He was tired, but more than that, upset and confused.

Thankfully, Or'Shal did not rush to make him explain, instead making small noises as he moved around his cook space. Trysten was not sure what he was doing, but eventually he could detect the warm scent of herbs combined with lemon, and the fainter fragrance of bread.

"Sit down, Trysten." It was a command, not a request, and the elf felt himself move automatically to obey it, taking a seat in one of the oversized chairs at the main table. A plate with two thick slices of buttered bread was set in front of him, along with a cup of tea. "Take some time to ground yerself, then tell me what's going on."

Feeling numb, Trysten nodded, picking up a slice of bread and biting into it with disinterest at first, then with greater urgency as he realized how hungry he was. Before he knew it, he had cleared the plate along with finishing half of the tea, the faint tang of the lemon helping him focus better again. Or'Shal had seated himself opposite now and was watching closely, a genuine air of concern about him.

"I left Suran. I'm not going back."

These two simple sentences made Or'Shal sit back, his stare even harder. "What? What's gotten into ye, boy? If ye think you can stay here, ye'll be sadly mistaken." There was no conviction to these words, and Trysten moved ahead regardless.

"Then I will sleep in the forest. Or'Shal, I can't go back now. I don't agree with the war, and I've been falling behind in my duties to the point that the army may release me, anyway. My friend has been covering for me somewhat, but now he refuses to. I had to come here, and see you, and learn what I could. That was my decision."

The orc did not seem moved by the story, his firm gaze still fixed on the elf in front of him. "Bit of a bad decision, don't ye think? If ye wanted to learn, that's fine, but ye shouldn't have neglected yer actual duties, Trysten. That was dangerous, and unfair to yer friend. Lucky for ye they're only figuring it out now." He sighed, a deeply disappointed sound. "But as ye say, it's yer decision. And ye made it, right enough. Yer only two options are to go back and face the consequences of yer actions, or move on to another Elven city, I imagine."

"They'll look for me," Trysten replied, nudging a bread crumb across his plate idly with one finger. "They will find me in any of the nearer cities. How could they not? I'm a scout, now a deserter, and I guess they might just be worried for me as a citizen beyond that. Lhys would push for them to find me anyway, I think."

"Yer friend," Or'Shal rumbled quietly. Realizing he had not spoken Lhys's name before, Trysten nodded awkwardly.

"Yes, that's him. He cares about me, but I would like to imagine he will give up, with enough time." The statement felt hollow yet painful all at once; it hurt, but almost as though it was happening to someone else and he was merely observing.

"Well, ye'll not sleep in the forest," Or'Shal said after a long silence, having been lost in thought for some time. "But this can't be a permanent home for ye, Trysten. I have work to do here, and when I do have orcish visitors, they would not take kindly to seeing an elf at my side. Ye'll have a place here for now, but only until we can sort out a better solution."

Trysten sagged back in his chair, nodding, but not feeling much better. "Thank you. I will continue to help you as I can, and I will stay out of your way otherwise, I promise. I... might like to lie down. Is that alright?"

Or'Shal certainly softened then, standing up and clearing Trysten's plate and cup away. "Aye. Just lie down on my cot, there's a blanket there if ye need. I have work to keep doing, anyway."

The elf did as instructed, though it felt strange to settle himself on Or'Shal's bed, pulling the slightly rough blanket up around him until it nearly covered his face. However, the orc's scent was comforting, the usual smell of lavender with a hint of various baked goods, the combination still making him smile when he thought about it, no matter how weary he was just then.

Or'Shal made hardly any noise at all as he continued to work, and Trysten easily fell into a deep yet unsettled slumber, with nightmares of orcs and elves slaughtering one another, and the heartbreaking sound of what he felt certain must be Lhys crying.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lhys discovers his friend's disappearance; Trysten asks Or'Shal for a little help in dealing with his guilt.
> 
> Thank you all very much for continuing to follow the story if you have chosen to.

Despite what he had told Trysten, Lhys had gone to their commander fully prepared to lie for him yet again. At first, he thought he simply would not do it, but imagining Trysten's hurt and confused face, he faltered another time. The hold the younger elf had on him was more than he could understand sometimes.

Then again, he did understand it.

After another long, wearying day without Trysten nearby, Lhys walked in the direction of the barracks. His feet felt heavy, his usual elegant glide slowed by the dark mood that hung over him like a raincloud. Any moment it felt as though that cloud would split apart and drench him in clinging sadness.

He loved Trysten. That much was obvious to anyone who cared to notice his expression whenever the other elf was near him, the affection that set his eyes alight from within. He had thought it was a shared attraction, at first, when he was assigned to Trysten's training as a scout. Over time it was clearer that Trysten did not comprehend certain emotions very well, or was simply bad at reading clear signs. He did not love Lhys in return, or if he did, he did not _realize_ it.

It had even startled Lhys when he began feeling deeper emotions toward Trysten. At first, it was the simple enjoyment of flirtation with a pretty face. Then Lhys began to learn more about his younger trainee, how he was passionate and curious, often funny and sweet. Of course, he was also stubborn and sometimes rude, attempting to shirk certain duties and not using proper focus when it came to their work. Lhys had made every effort to correct him, to be stern and instruct Trysten on the proper path, but there had always been something that had not caught on with him. Lhys loved him despite this, however, so he knew his feelings were true. He had promised himself he would keep trying.

Now Trysten was drifting away from him. There could be no other explanation of what was occurring at the time. Lhys felt sure he would likely leave the army rather than be dismissed, perhaps going into work as a healer instead. That would have been fine, but it did mean he would see his friend much less. Maybe he could have even lived with that, except Trysten was being far too suspicious.

The change, Trysten's sudden interest in healing plants, had come along much too fast and sudden. It was almost as though something had prodded him into it, a dramatic event, though Lhys could not imagine what that might be. Then there were the disappearances, Trysten needing to take days off at a time to study, or being nowhere to be found after their duties were concluded for the day. The one idea Lhys had was the one that hurt him the most, of course: Trysten must have found a new path for his life that led away from Lhys, and possibly even a lover.

Lhys had tried to pull away. He knew if he continued to be physically affectionate with Trysten, it would just hurt him more to be rejected. If only the younger elf was more intuitive! Anyone else could have seen the nights they spent in the same bed, even if it only went so far as kisses and gentle touches, actually _meant_ something more! Lhys's conclusion was that Trysten did not and could not love him, and might be toying with him, but Lhys could not banish his own feelings so easily.

The barracks were still dimly lit; Lhys had left earlier than anyone else. He walked to the bunk he shared with Trysten, staring at the lower bed with a frown, then climbing the ladder to his own and reaching under the pillow for the reassuring presence of the item he kept there. Heart suddenly racing, he paused, then lifted the pillow and moved it away.

The locket, Trysten's gift to him, was gone.

Lhys hurriedly looked all around the bed, tearing up the blankets and then going so far as to check Trysten's bed and move the entire bunk away from the wall, searching the floor behind it. There was no locket anywhere.

It had been a small thing, golden and in the shape of a heart, but Lhys had cherished it beyond measure. Even if it was simply a gift as thanks for his mentorship, even if Trysten had not thought ahead far enough to also provide a chain or anything meaningful to place inside, the very sight of it had always warmed Lhys. Fearful of losing it until it could be worn around his neck, he had placed it under the pillow for safety. No one had known it was there, except...

Lhys burst out of the barracks doors, startling several other elves who were about to make their way inside. He ignored them, outright sprinting through the streets in the direction of Trysten's house.

The building was dark, and the door unlocked. A strangling sense of dread seemed ready to choke Lhys, as he could hardly breathe as he moved inside.

The house was in minor disarray. The cupboards had been thrown open, and the teapot and cups Lhys was so familiar with using were gone. There were various small items of clothing on the floor near the closet, the majority also seemingly disappeared. Trysten owned very little, as most in the army did, but the lack of what was missing terrified Lhys.

He stood in complete silence, his eyes fixed on the door to the small bedroom, but not really seeing it. It was too late, Trysten had the whole day in which to be gone, and he would not be found anytime soon. Lhys intended to alert everyone, of course, but the state of shock he found himself in would not allow him to do so yet. It was worse than he had imagined. Trysten had not merely meant to leave the army, he had meant to _run away_.

Lhys wandered into the bedroom then, his tear-glazed eyes landing on a scrap of white on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, briefly noting it was the handkerchief that had held the biscuits Trysten brought back that first day, the one where he had claimed to visit the port city. Of course... Trysten had found somewhere else he would rather be, and that must be the answer.

Lhys still did not accept it. He wanted to find where his friend, where his _love_ had gone, and demand an answer for why it had to be this way, why he could not simply have been told.

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his pocket, the movements numb and automatic. The piece of fabric would likely not help in finding Trysten, but without the locket, Lhys felt he needed something else to keep. Then he moved to the bed, sitting down on it and leaning forward to cover his face with his hands, the sound of his bitter weeping erasing the silence.

\-----

A week passed, and then another. Trysten had barely assisted Or'Shal during this time and was often outdoors on his own, identifying plants as well as collecting a few to bring back to the house, very little on his mind beyond the distraction of it all. The orc did not bother him much, though he did tend to wear a perpetual expression of concern as he watched the elf come and go. He did not seem to mind having an extra mouth to feed, or even to be running short on supplies because of it; in fact, if anything, he did appear to enjoy looking after his uninvited guest.

Aside from his ventures in the woods, Trysten spent far too much time thinking about Lhys, sitting idle with the locket clutched in his hand, mourning the loss of a special friendship, and whatever else had seemed to be between them. Because he certainly missed Lhys's lean, warm body pressed to his at night, the soft lips that would seek out his own for a secret kiss when no one else was watching. Why did his stomach churn with so much longing and regret? Trysten constantly felt this pain and the guilt that came along with it, until it was eating at him so much that he could hardly bear it.

"Or'Shal," he announced one day as he returned to the house empty-handed, but with a determined expression. "I need you to help me. I can't _do_ this anymore."

"Do what?" Or'Shal grunted, eyeing him over a cauldron of something strangely _purple_ that he had been stirring precisely in a clockwise direction. He was wearing an apron again, a sight much more familiar to Trysten by now. "Mope around like a child who's misbehaved and is just waiting for it to be discovered? Aye, I agree ye can't do that anymore."

"No, it's-" Trysten began, his ears flushing faintly pink. "Well, maybe. I just feel terrible all the time. It's such an awful feeling, and I don't know how to be rid of it."

Or'Shal did not respond immediately, finishing the stirring and beginning to ladle the concoction into individual flasks instead. "Guilt, I suppose?" he suggested mildly, making Trysten look away.

"I... Yes. That's it, I think. I made my decision, but I'm not sure I went about it the right way. I let down my people, and especially Lhys... I don't want to think about how awful he must feel." Hopefully, by now, Lhys might even be forgetting him. The concept did not help the way it had before. "What can I do to feel better?"

"Well." Or'Shal's work was not suffering as he listened to Trysten at the same time, corking each flask and labeling them swiftly with his own invented system of symbols he had refused to share as of yet. "What's helped ye get rid of guilt most recently?"

Trysten stared at him, now with a sinking feeling that he knew was the correct one to experience at this point. "You... I mean, yes." He stared at the floor hard, truly feeling ashamed of himself. "When you discipline me, I do feel less guilty. But I hardly think that's a permanent fix."

"Oh, it's not." Or'Shal had stowed the flasks away in a chest and was washing his hands in the basin as he looked at the elf, drying them on his apron afterward. "In this case, at least. But it's a temporary one that might give ye some relief until it either fades or we find that solution. I regret I've been too busy of late to come up with anything."

It was Trysten's belief that Or'Shal had actually been giving him time before making a decision. He nodded slowly, not liking the idea, but wanting to feel better more than anything. "Very well."

The orc stepped up to him, lifting his chin with gentle fingers. "No, Trysten. I can't just give this to ye, this time. Ye need to decide ye deserve it and ask me properly."

Despite his awkward discomfort, Trysten managed to keep looking at Or'Shal as he spoke again. "Please, then... Or'Shal. I think I deserve a punishment for what I have done." He wanted it, but he didn't want it, which was more confusing than anything else just then.

The orc sighed, releasing Trysten and stepping back to the cot where he let the elf sleep most nights, sitting down on it and patting his broad lap. "If ye really think so, then ye'll come here and bend yerself over my knees of yer own will."

Trysten shuffled closer, biting his lip in sudden regret for this choice but knowing he needed to have made it. It was much easier to be pulled down forcefully, and it took some time before he settled down over Or'Shal's lap and began to squirm into the most comfortable position he could manage.

"Good," the orc said quietly. His large hand rested against Trysten's upturned backside, still clothed for now, though the elf had no illusions it would remain so. "Tell me why ye are in need of this correction."

With a huff of frustration, wishing he would just begin and get it over with, Trysten mumbled, "Because I deserted my position in the army, I abandoned my people without explanation, even if I no longer agree with them. I... ran away from my problems. I hurt Lhys, I have no doubt." He had never mentioned the locket to Or'Shal, deciding it was a personal matter, and wondered if it would add to the punishment if he brought it up now.

"I'm glad ye asked me, Trysten," Or'Shal said in a soft tone, just as he lifted his hand up. "It was rather my opinion as well, but I needed ye to truly understand why and ask before I could help."

Trysten was bracing himself against the first blow and had been correct to do so, as Or'Shal's palm seemed just as hard as ever. There would be no lenience given here, and he felt better for that, even as a growing burn was being ignited over his backside while the hand continued to descend rhythmically. It had been weeks since he'd last had a proper spanking, and he felt sure he was going to be more sore than usual because of it.

The elf closed his eyes, wincing against every impact, but trying to focus on what he felt so bad about, instead. This pain was a small thing to take compared to what he had caused others.

Childishly, he felt his mind change somewhat when Or'Shal began to peel down his leggings.

"Please, we- We don't have to go this far, do we?" he gasped, wriggling against the new sensation of cooler air against his warm bottom. He was asking as though he had some say in the matter, though now he clearly didn't.

"I think we do," Or'Shal sighed, giving him a sharp, glancing swat on his faintly glowing flesh. "Ye ought to know by now that the only way to make sure a naughty boy learns his lesson is to teach it firmly on his bare backside."

"Well, you certainly don't have to put it that wa-" Trysten began, embarrassed by the very _phrasing_ of it, but his words cutting off again in another gasp. Or'Shal had shifted one leg upward just a fraction, but it had arched the elf's exposed bottom up even higher, and a steady rain of heavy, painful blows had begun to land.

"I can add more to it if ye like," Or'Shal commented, almost casual, the situation costing him very little effort with his natural strength. "I've got any number of wooden spoons in various sizes that I wouldn't mind testing out on ye. I've had it in mind to craft something even more substantial if yer going to be staying here much longer."

"No! You don't have to, please," Trysten panted, having begun to struggle in place, though he was firmly held with Or'Shal's other hand against his back. He could hardly imagine something more 'substantial' than the incredible firmness of the orc's hand.

Or'Shal chuckled in response but did not make a move to do anything except spank Trysten more as he was right now. In fact, the blows were relentless, and the elf was beginning to buckle under both the pain and a feeling of genuine, growing sorrow.

The ringing sound of each slap began to slow when Trysten suddenly sobbed. It did not stop completely, not until regretful words began to spill from his mouth. "I'm sorry. Why did I not wait to think of a better way? Why did I leave Lhys out of the idea? What have I done? Or'Shal..."

Trysten was weeping openly then, and the hand that had been punishing him was now rubbing the soothing, rose-scented balm against his raw skin instead. Once it was well covered, he felt his leggings eased back up before he was lifted and pulled into the most comfortable hold possible on Or'Shal's lap instead, large arms going around him as he was cradled close.

"Shh, Trysten. It's going to turn out alright, ye'll see. Ye definitely didn't think it through, but we'll find a way to make it better. Maybe ye'll even see yer Lhys again. There, now. Ye didn't cry like this once since then, did ye? This is what ye needed. Just let yerself."

The stream of comforting words, all delivered in Or'Shal's oddly accented Elvish, made Trysten cry harder. It turned out he was more grateful for the orc than he could even begin to imagine. Maybe if they had not met, he would not be in this situation, but he would never regret their _meeting_ at all.

Time passed as Or'Shal held and soothed Trysten, until finally he found himself weak and spent, pulling away to see his tears had soaked into the orc's apron. "I'm sorry," he finally offered again, his voice wavering. "But I... I do feel better. Clearer, I think." It was true; he felt as though a weight had lifted, and even if it was only temporary, having a sore backside was worth this quiet feeling of acceptance. "Thank you, Or'Shal."

The orc was also leaning back to look at him, lifting his hand to wipe away a stray tear from Trysten's flushed and wet face. "I'm glad to help ye, Trysten. I do think yer a good lad, and I appreciate yer company sometimes. Even though yer definitely a bit of a wreck, for an elf."

Now Trysten was chuckling, though the sound was faint and low. "I will not argue with you, my friend. I am a disaster in need of control. But I have a start with that now. I hope there will be some way to..."

The words trailed off, both of them still not knowing what they would do with Trysten's immediate future, but both hoping they truly would find the right answer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tearful reunion occurs, and Trysten receives something he may have deserved for a long time.

More time crawled by. Trysten felt better for a while, though he was still subdued, and continued to think of Lhys every day. Or'Shal let him be, beyond prompting him to eat at mealtimes, both of them lost in their own thoughts about the choices that were soon to come.

There were a couple of days when Trysten was sent into the forest with some food carefully wrapped in cloth and told to stay away from the house until the sun had reached a certain point in the sky. Those were the days when Or'Shal had visitors, orcs who would not take kindly to an elf's presence at all. Trysten had been tempted to lurk around the house in the nearby brush just to see what occurred, maybe even eavesdrop with his ear pressed to the door, but in the end, the risk had not been worth taking. Or'Shal's exact threat had been "the spanking of yer life" if he was caught disobeying, and Trysten had no interest in finding out what that would entail.

Then the day came when Or'Shal decided a choice had to be made. He had sat Trysten down and was just beginning to speak to him seriously when he stopped and cocked his large head to the side.

"Someone's coming. Too light to be an orc. Too small..." He trailed off, still seeming to listen hard, though Trysten could not hear a thing.

"But there is no sound-"

"Hush, boy," Or'Shal cut in sharply, standing up and striding toward the door. "They're coming too fast-"

As if to prove the point, there was a knock at the door just then and a faint voice, "Hello? Does someone live here? I am searching for a missing friend, a young red-haired elf. Please open the door and tell me if you have seen anyone recently."

The polite voice, even though it was strained and desperate, still clearly belonged to Lhys.

Trysten stumbled to his feet, almost falling onto his backside in surprise. For a moment, he did not even know how to _think_. Then, ashamed of himself and what he had done, he began to back himself nearer to the wall as he looked at Or'Shal with huge, frightened eyes.

"Yer friend, isn't it?" the orc asked in a quiet rumble. "Perhaps ye should open the door. Not sure what he might think if I did it."

"Yes... But no, please. I can't. Please open it, I am sure he won't hurt you..." Trysten was shaking with nerves, wanting to see Lhys but not wanting to explain, even though he had to.

Or'Shal was taking note of his condition, giving him a doubtful shrug. "Alright, but I gave ye the option." Bravely, he went to the door and opened it, stepping back almost immediately so as not to loom directly over the elf standing in the doorway.

Trysten could see Lhys only partially, but it was enough to witness the shock and genuine _fear_ on his friend's face when he saw the orc in front of him. His mouth had dropped open in surprise, hand automatically going for the knife sheathed at his waist, and Trysten sprang forward before he could think about it.

"No, Lhys! Stop, Or'Shal won't hurt you, he's never hurt me, see, I am safe." The babbled words seemed to give Lhys twice the shock as his attention was diverted from the orc's huge form and to Trysten instead.

"Dearest Trysten..." Lhys choked the words out, his eyes having begun to fill with tears. His face was pale and looked more drawn and tired than it had ever been before. "You are alive, I can't believe..." Apparently forgetting about the fact that he was in the same room as an enemy, he flung himself at Trysten and caught him in the tightest embrace.

"I-I'm alright, Lhys, it's really alright," Trysten attempted soothingly, glancing over Lhys's shoulder at Or'Shal. The orc had not spoken yet and was only watching them closely, without malice, though he did still seem on a careful guard.

Lhys was sobbing wearily on Trysten's shoulder, and it took some time for him to quiet down. Once he had, he pulled back to give the younger elf a weak smile before wiping his eyes on the wrist of his sleeve. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry. It's just that I was worried out of my mind and was on the verge of giving up on finding you, and then I came upon this odd house, and..." Suddenly remembering where he was, Lhys glanced back at Or'Shal. "Trysten, have you been brought here against your will...?"

His friend's tears had taken hold of Trysten as well, who sniffled miserably once Lhys pulled away. "I'm sorry too, Lhys. I suppose there is much to explain, but I... Oh, no. I came here on my own. This is Or'Shal, and he is my friend, too."

Lhys's expression had hardened slightly once Trysten admitted to not being kidnapped, a look in his eyes that promised they certainly would discuss it. But for the moment, he seemed to want to ensure their safety in the current situation. "He is an orc, Trysten," he said stiffly, turning to face Or'Shal. "If you have done something to him..."

Or'Shal sighed, shaking his head. "Nay. It's more about what he's done to _me_ , to an extent. But I can assure you, he's come to no real harm here. Nothing lasting, and no more than he's deserved. Pleased to meet ye, sir elf. I am Or'Shal, as yer friend has stated, orcish fortune teller and apothecary, and I'd be at yer service as well if ye require."

For the first time, it appeared Lhys was really noticing his surroundings. He gazed around in wonder at all the equipment and bottles and herbs before giving Or'Shal an awkward nod for the moment, turning to Trysten. "Orcish fortune teller and apothecary... So that is why you were asking me all those questions. Why not simply tell me, youngling? Why was it necessary to keep such a secret, to run away from me? And _did_ he hurt you? I do not understand the answer he gave."

Trysten shuffled his feet, looking at the floor as he debated what to say. "I... I don't know, really. I thought you would not understand, that you would tell me to stay away from Or'Shal. But he is interesting, and a good friend, even though he is an orc... I was just afraid you would prevent me from returning here again." He shifted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to explain much. "Well, I... I did deserve it..."

Lhys turned back to Or'Shal, but his expression had relaxed, as it was clear that Trysten was not actually suffering any sort of damage at the moment. His words, however, truly surprised the younger elf. "Very well. If you have looked after Trysten, I cannot be at odds with you. I still don't understand much of this, but I'm pleased to meet you as well. Do call me Lhys, that is fine."

Lhys's acceptance and politeness startled Trysten, at the same time as making him feel ashamed all over again. He had been unthinkingly rude and hostile the first time he had met Or'Shal, so meeting Lhys was probably a much better experience for him.

Apparently, it really was. "Thank you, Lhys. My, what a difference between ye and yer friend, eh? Ye seem real charming. Now, let me start us a pot of tea, and maybe I can explain everything going on here a little better."

Trysten blushed furiously, but Lhys was graceful as he nodded his acceptance of the offer. "That would be lovely, thank you. You are most unusual for an orc, but I will give this a chance."

\-----

A short while later, they were all sitting at the table with large cups of steaming tea. Trysten was too fretful to even touch his own, but Lhys was already sipping from his cup as though to steady himself. Or'Shal's attention was divided between both elves, and there was a thoughtful air around him that, for some reason, brought further concern to Trysten.

The orc began by telling Lhys the same story he had told Trysten, about his work and his goals, his position on the war. The blonde elf had nodded along as he listened carefully, his expression gaining a new measure of respect by the end.

"How fascinating... There are different perspectives to this world, truly. I wonder if the elves knew some of what you are telling me, certain situations might take a different turn. But I do know that many in the positions of highest power would not listen to information from an outside source." Lhys spoke quietly, swirling the remaining tea with a pensive gaze into the cup, and Trysten had a faint hope that maybe he would not be questioned further after all.

"Had a feeling it was something like that," Or'Shal rumbled, then directly turned to Trysten, dashing the elf's hopes. "Don't know how much weight scouts like ye and yer friend carry when it comes to talking to yer commanders. Although I'm guessing if ye went back now, the chances would be much lower."

Trysten did not respond, pretending to drink his tea at last, but Lhys stepped in. "Not much at all, I'm afraid. For either of us. Which speaks to some of the failings of our people, I think." He also shifted his gaze to his friend, looking much too serious for Trysten's comfort. "And you, youngling. Now that I understand the existence of this place, I want you to explain why you felt the need to run away without any warning or explanation, leaving me terrified and upset for weeks on end. I had searches organized for you, Trysten, and everyone searched for days before we could no longer spare the resources. What has possessed you, truly?"

It seemed Lhys had gotten over his initial joy at seeing Trysten again, and now there were _two_ stern expressions turned his way. He cleared his throat awkwardly, praying he would come out of this safe in the end.

"I... Well, the truth is I stumbled upon Or'Shal's home by chance one day and we... did not get off to the best start. But in the end, I realized how kind he was, and I was intrigued enough to come back. That did not go so well either, but I was still fascinated, and the more time I spent here, the more I knew I had a greater interest in Or'Shal's work than anything to do with the army. I did not know how to explain it to you, Lhys. I did not want to hurt you. I was afraid you would tell me to stop coming here or would tell someone else and some hurt would come to Or'Shal. Eventually, I wanted out of the army, but... I could think of no other way. Or perhaps my decision was too rash..."

Trysten's speech had gone uninterrupted until now, when Or'Shal cut in with a note of disapproval in his deep voice. "Ye _know_ it was too rash, boy, after the fact. And ye know ye should have waited to find some other way, consulted with both of us first. One of yer downfalls is certainly poor judgment skills. I don't suppose Lhys would have shut down anything ye had to say, not with how much he seems to care for ye."

Lhys spoke up immediately after, making Trysten squirm. "I should think you know how much I care, Trysten. He is correct. Your hasty decision caused me, caused _everyone_ a great deal of trouble." He paused for a long moment, and when he spoke again, there was more upset in his voice. "Not only that, but you disappeared _with_ my locket! Youngling, how could you?"

Or'Shal seemed greatly interested in this new topic, both eyebrows raised as he regarded the red-haired elf. "What's this, now? Part of the story I don't know?"

"Trysten gave me a locket as a gift, as thanks for his training. I did not have a chain, so I kept it under my pillow. It held great sentimental value to me." The younger elf darted a glance at Lhys as he spoke, seeing he looked somewhat angry, and quickly averted his eyes again. "It was gone when Trysten left. I could only assume he took it! Why deprive me of the one thing I had left of you?"

Lhys had directed his response to Trysten now, who licked his dry lips as he attempted to find an answer that might be appeasing. "I needed it to... to remember _you_. There was nothing else I could take..."

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Lhys cried, "Do you think of no one but yourself? It was your gift to me, and it was mine to cherish!" He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as though to calm himself again. "It was fortunate I was able to find this in your home, even though it was not originally yours. It was something to hold onto." Slowly he withdrew the handkerchief from his pocket, setting it on the table and making both Trysten and Or'Shal stare in surprise.

"It's mine, and he never returned it," the orc sighed. "That explains how ye found this place so easily. It bears my mark, a charm that would allow ye to see the way here. Trysten has a few issues with considering the feelings of others, along with being disrespectful of both person and property. I'm not surprised he did this to ye. I've been dealing with him in the way I thought most fitting for his childishness, ye can rest assured."

Trysten wanted to melt through the floor; surely this conversation was not going to carry on much further, no matter how true it might be? But Lhys's expression was so stern at this point that he could feel anxiety fluttering in his stomach with every breath. He brought the locket out and set it on the table, on top of the handkerchief, then folded his hands in his lap carefully.

"I am sorry, Lhys. I did not... think." It all seemed to come back to that now, his impulsive thoughts and behavior, and he could easily see it.

"I accept your apology, but that does not make it better. And you have been disrespectful to this kind gentleman in his own home? _Trysten_. I hope you are ashamed of yourself. I cannot believe..." He trailed off, slumping back in his chair before looking up at Or'Shal. "How have you dealt with him? I could never work out a way that was effective. He will not listen whether I beg or lecture."

Or'Shal's sudden expression of mirth made Trysten feel as though he might want to jump up from the table and run outside, find a tree to climb, and stay there until everyone forgot about him.

"Oh, ye haven't? That's unfortunate. Trysten has so far been turned over my knees a number of times for a good bottom warming. I hope ye don't take too much offense, but he's a brat on occasion, and a hard spanking seems to be an effective method of dealing with that."

There was silence for a little while as Trysten clenched his hands together tighter, hoping this was the point at which Lhys would be upset by Or'Shal's words and ask that they go. Returning to face his people might be better than this. But Lhys still appeared stern, and he was eyeing the younger elf severely.

"I see. No, I am not offended. In fact, I wish that I could have thought of it for myself. Trysten, you ran away and kept me frightened and worried for weeks, you took the only thing I had left of you, and you lied to me consistently before any of that, besides. I cannot simply let all of this go. I believe that you deserve to be punished right now."

In something of a panic, Trysten jumped up from the table, knocking over his tea along the way and making Or'Shal need to quickly grab a cloth to wipe it up. "No! Lhys, I promise I'm sorry. It won't happen again, honestly! And besides, I already asked Or'Shal to punish me when I was feeling guilty for what I had done! I felt better after that, as though I paid the penalty."

Lhys was firmly resolute, standing up from his chair and moving it back far enough that there was plenty of space, then sitting down again and glaring at Trysten. " _You_ feel better. What about me? Perhaps _I_ need this. Youngling, come here and bend over my lap this instant."

The words shot through Trysten and almost made him fall a second time that day. "No... You can't! Or'Shal, tell him!" he pleaded, turning his worried eyes to the orc.

Or'Shal had cleaned up Trysten's mess and was seated again, his arms impassively folded. "Lhys has a point, boy. This goes beyond what ye needed before. I didn't know about the gift, either. And another spanking would do ye very little harm, in my opinion. Now, do as yer told, or I'll pick ye up and put ye where ye need to be."

"But-" Trysten was flailing for words, a way to tell them he did not want this to happen, that it was so embarrassing he wanted to vanish from existence entirely. "You are here! You can't watch!" This seemed the one thing safe to settle on, as there might be no other way to convince them.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Or'Shal grunted. "And maybe Lhys will need a few tips on how to handle ye. I'll stay if he's alright with it. _Do as yer told_."

Thinking at that moment how unfair it was, Trysten's legs wobbled as though made of jelly as he walked over to Lhys, standing at his side a brief moment with shame and worry written plain across his face. "Please, Lhys? You don't have to. I will do anything, anything you want me to-"

"Then you will obey me and take your punishment with dignity," Lhys cut in, his cool fingers wrapping around Trysten's warm wrist and tugging him forward. The younger elf dropped over his lap with a gasp of dismay, wriggling slightly until the same hand pressed against his back instead.

There could be nothing dignified about this! Trysten thought it might even be _worse_ than laying over Or'Shal's knee. Lhys was still the larger of the two of them, but he was so elegant, so graceful, and it made Trysten feel ungainly and awkward to be in this particular position.

"I wish that I did not have to do this, Trysten," he heard Lhys say quietly. "But what else have I left to attempt? Perhaps, in the end, it will prove to be what you have needed all along."

To Trysten's great dismay, the discipline did not commence immediately. He had grown accustomed to Or'Shal's practice of leaving his leggings in place for the first part of a spanking, so when Lhys's hand grasped the waistband to pull them down and swiftly bared his backside right away, he gave a startled yelp.

"Y-you don't _have_ to! I can promise to improve! And Or'Shal has punished me plenty of times already!" A hot flush of shame had crept up over his face as he realized this was the first time Lhys would be seeing him naked in any sense of the word, and it would be for _this_ reason. He was very conscious of the older elf's gaze on his bare flesh just then.

If he was affected in any way, Lhys gave no sign. "For shame, youngling, that you should be so unruly that it would be necessary." With those sharp words, he finally lifted his hand and let it fall once across the center of Trysten's backside.

The slap had been loud, and certainly hard, and Trysten whimpered into the silence that followed before wishing he hadn't. The way Lhys paused afterward, he thought maybe his friend had changed his mind. However, it was quickly obvious this was not the case.

It was more as though Lhys had been hardening his resolve to do what he needed, no matter Trysten's reactions. He was grimly quiet as he laid down another slap, then another, then a steady rhythm of blows that were increasing in both pace and firmness. It further embarrassed Trysten that he should be comparing the two, but he was certain this almost hurt as much as when Or'Shal spanked him.

"Ahh- Please- Lhys-" Trysten gasped ineffectually. The blonde elf had begun swatting his lower buttocks with a slight upward motion, each strike glancing over his reddening skin in a way that made it hurt somehow twice as much.

"Have ye ever done this before? Yer technique is admirable."

Trysten almost swore when he remembered Or'Shal was still there, watching them and definitely sounding as if he was somewhat amused. To his surprise, Lhys laughed softly as he replied.

"No, I have not. But I am dedicated to doing whatever my dearest Trysten needs, and he needs to learn a lesson."

Mortified, Trysten did the one thing that he could not with Or'Shal, and that was beginning to squirm and writhe over Lhys's lap in an attempt to escape the punishing blows that remained unceasing. Before that proceeded much farther, Lhys was firmly moving his legs down to trap them between his own, making Trysten regret his actions immediately.

Lhys's hand did not fall again, however. Trysten dared to hope it was over, but that was soon dashed, as usual. "My palm stings so. Or'Shal, how did you ever continue this for long enough?"

"My hand's a bit rougher," Or'Shal chuckled. "But if ye think he hasn't had enough yet, then I can help." Trysten listened in horror as he heard the orc move around the room for a moment, then toward the two elves before returning to his chair. "See if this helps. Might drive the lesson home faster as well, I should think."

"What-" Trysten began, then fell silent when something cool and hard pressed against his tender skin. It felt circular, almost like-

He knew it was one of Or'Shal's many wooden stirring spoons as soon as the first swat connected. The sound was crisp, and the pain was sharp, a focused area of intensity that made it hurt worse than Lhys's hand. And now, Trysten had to face this new disciplinary tool while his bare bottom was trapped in place and a perfectly accessible target that had no chance of escape. He could not even wiggle out of the way!

The wooden implement cracked against his reddened skin again and again. Trysten was crying out with each blow, his hands attempting to find anything in reach to hold onto, though there was nothing to be found. It hurt, it hurt so badly, and yet what he had done to his friend, his beautiful, kind, and caring friend who had never deserved any of it...

"Lhys... please." Trysten had begun to sob, barely holding himself together as pain warred both within him and without. "Please, I am so sorry, I have been awful to you, and I know I deserve it, but I'm still so very sorry... If you don't want to be near me at all after this, I would understand."

It had cost Trysten much to say all of this, even though the spoon's pace had slowed to nearly a stop. The last impact was nearly just a tap, and he could hear that Lhys had placed the spoon aside on the table, his hand instead coming to rest on the younger elf's burning backside, rubbing it tenderly.

"Trysten... my lovely Trysten. No, I do not want to go away from you. I don't know what will happen in the near future, but I would never leave you for good. The way I feel for you..."

Lhys said nothing for a long time, and Trysten did not register any other sounds, but he did hear the familiar tin container of salve being opened, and Lhys's fingers were gentle again as they smoothed the rose-scented balm over his skin. "Dearest, my sweet youngling... All is forgiven, do not cry so, there, darling."

The string of sweet phrases, along with the cooling salve, were helping Trysten take control of himself again. He was released and pulled up, gently maneuvered to sit on Lhys's lap, with more pressure on his hip than his bottom, but with his leggings still down around the middle of his thighs.

Trysten did not mind any of that. He buried his face against Lhys's neck, breathing in his scent, the wetness from his tears seemingly unnoticed by the older elf. "Don't leave me, Lhys, I will behave, I promise I will..."

"Shh, no. I will not leave you. Oh, Trysten, I love you so much. And I know you might behave dreadfully again in the future, but I do not _care_ about that! I want to help you, as much as you need, to improve. And if this is the way, so be it. That is if you want to accept."

Trysten allowed Lhys to talk, staying quiet as his mental anguish calmed further; it was much worse than any physical pain. "I want you to," he finally mumbled, exhausted, and now clinging to his friend as though his life depended on it. "I'm dreadful sometimes. I don't _think_ enough. But Or'Shal helped, and you have as well... Not just now. You always help. I'm just... Awful."

"Only sometimes, darling. And we will help you with that," Lhys whispered in his ear, soothing. Trysten felt fingers along his jaw as he was brought in closer for a slow, soft kiss. A small thrill ran through him as he realized how much he had missed his physical tenderness with Lhys. Then he properly registered what the other elf had said.

"We...? Surely Or'Shal needn't punish me further if you can handle it?"

"Oh, well. I do not know how much longer you will stay here, and I must return to Suran for a time, of course. If you are naughty and in need of a spanking, I think Or'Shal is quite willing to handle it in my place. We will discuss this more later, but I do hope that will not need to occur, as I would be displeased to hear of it." Lhys's tone and choice of words again made Trysten wince, wondering why they _both_ had to be this way.

But it was effective. Trysten felt at peace again, in a greater sense than before, and even if he wished it did not have to come about in this way, it was something he could accept as a path to improvement.

Now that Or'Shal had been mentioned, Trysten cautiously peeked out of his safe resting place against Lhys. The orc was nowhere to be seen and must have slipped out after he had provided the salve. Grateful for that, Trysten sank back down to rest against his friend, trying to play on his sympathies instead.

"Please don't use a spoon again," he muttered against Lhys's hair. "It's terrible, I am so sore..."

"Oh, Trysten," Lhys cooed, holding him tighter. "I don't think it will ever be up to you to choose how you will be punished. Perhaps do not be so frightfully naughty? The consequences will be less severe."

"Stop," Trysten groaned, feeling himself begin to blush again. "The way you talk about it..."

"I think I cannot help it," Lhys responded with a breathy chuckle. "Your bottom is so lovely, Trysten. I had always wished to see it, but I would rather it not be turned red beneath my hand first."

Trysten made a little embarrassed sound that brought Lhys laughter again, and then they did not talk for quite some time. Anyone listening would only have heard fingers sliding cautiously against tender skin, and the exchange of many tired, relieved kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was fretting a lot about the time skip, but hopefully this part of the story blends in smoothly enough. Thank you all so much for reading. I know some of you have been concerned for Lhys and I hope you find this chapter to your satisfaction. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lhys and Trysten spend some time alone, and a decision is finally made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter! I'm crying a little. If you like visuals for stories, I've made a Pinterest board for Or'Shal's home (it's so cozy!) and am thinking about adding sections for characters/other locations as time goes by. You can find it by [clicking right here](https://www.pinterest.com/bardbrat/the-forest-house-orshals-home/).

The forest air enveloped Trysten and Lhys with the contrasting sweet and slightly dusty scents of new flowers and ancient trees. The sun was hanging low, meaning the light was even dimmer under the fluttering leaves that rustled a gentle song over their heads.

The two elves walked hand in hand, as Lhys seemed to never want to stop touching Trysten, and he was far from disagreeing with it. The younger was feeling a little more shy, and definitely more obedient, after having needed to submit to the elder's discipline.

That had been several hours ago by now. The two of them had both fully calmed, and Trysten's leggings were pulled back up and he was sitting down in his own chair, if gingerly, when Or'Shal had returned from wherever he had disappeared to. He did not even say where that was, or mention the incident again, and had set about preparing them a meal as though he received two elves in his home every day.

The meal had been pleasant, but Trysten had been quiet. Lhys suggested a walk, and that was how they found themselves moving slowly through the forest as though adrift, with no real direction or purpose. It would be dark soon, and Lhys would need to return to Suran. Trysten was finding that this thought filled him with dread. He had missed his friend for weeks and did not want to return to that, yet whose fault was it, other than his own?

"Come here, darling," Lhys said suddenly, his hand moving up to capture Trysten's wrist instead. This time the gesture was gentler and infinitely loving, and the red-haired elf's heart gave a strange flutter when he was pulled down into a little hollow in the ground surrounded by a grouping of trees as though they stood guard over a secret place.

Trysten laid on the soft grass where Lhys prompted, and the older elf drew him close and held him tightly. It was the usual, familiar feeling of their warmth mingling as their bodies pressed together, and it made Trysten feel better for the moment. "What is it?" he mumbled, breathing in Lhys's scent as one that was much more enjoyable to him than anything the forest had to offer.

"I only wanted to hold you. How I wish we could be in one of our beds in the barracks, or better yet, one of our beds at home. I fear we may never do either of those again if you have no desire to return. I blame myself, a little."

Lhys's quiet reply startled Trysten, and he moved back to look at him properly. "What? It was my own reckless decision that brought me here, not yours. And we could always come up with a story concerning my disappearance, and the army would accept me again." His reluctance was obvious in his voice, and Lhys shook his head.

"Do you really want to return?" he asked gently. Trysten could see the last of the day's fading light in his eyes, a gleam of faint yellow.

"No. At least... I don't think so." The reply had come from Trysten so quickly that it seemed Lhys could tell it was a genuine response. He nodded, pushing strands of hair away from Trysten's temple before kissing him there.

"It really is your decision. Perhaps you need a few more days to ponder it? I will not be able to return until then. But I will miss you, sweet Trysten." Lhys's lips sought his, and they slowly kissed, the rest of their thoughts fading away. Trysten shivered as Lhys slid a hand down to his backside, squeezing it tenderly; the faint remaining sting brought him back to the original issue.

"But you said it was your fault," Trysten protested, pulling back a second time. "At least a little? Why?"

Lhys sighed, seeming reluctant to halt the affection they were sharing. "For not telling you how I feel about you outright."

Trysten stared at him, evidently not understanding in the slightest. "Feel about me..? What do you mean?"

The next sigh from Lhys was part exasperation, part amusement. "You can be so _daft_ sometimes, Trysten. I'm in love with you."

It was almost as though Trysten could not believe his ears. "You... are what?"

Apparently, it was comical, as Lhys burst out into his musical laughter. "My dear heart, yes. I love you. I do not know if you are in love with me, however."

Trysten puzzled over this longer before he finally had to see sense. Lhys _did_ love him. Why had he never paid attention to it? And how absurd must he have looked, accepting and even returning all the sweet affection Lhys had given him, without acknowledging that he might feel the same?

"I... don't know." It felt awful to say even this much, but he found he just could not do otherwise. He could not say those words back to Lhys, almost as though the thought was frightening to him. Perhaps he simply felt as though Lhys deserved better than someone so reckless and often clumsy, with the occasional tendency toward a bad attitude on top of it all. To be honest, he was terrified of hurting Lhys more than anything else.

To his surprise, however, Lhys did not seem upset. "That is fine, darling," he said softly. "In time, you will be ready to tell me the answer. For now, if you're willing, I just want to continue this with you." Lhys's soft lips were against his again, and there was no possibility that Trysten would want this to stop at all. He felt safe, wanted, and accepted for who he was. Beyond that, there was the older elf's lean body against his, the delicate way he breathed every time their kisses broke apart, his large and gentle hands moving over Trysten in a way that was just short of sensuous...

It was nearly dark. Lhys was the one to finally pull away, though he was obviously regretful to do so. "Trysten, I had best leave. Or else I could lose my control and spend the night here, making love to you."

He had risen and was brushing bits of grass from his leggings, reaching down to pull Trysten up as well, but the younger elf was staring at him in a slight amount of shock.

"What...?" he asked inelegantly, starting to blush.

"Now, youngling, I expect good behavior in my absence." Lhys was talking as though nothing had happened, straightening Trysten's tunic for him. He paused to level a firm look at his friend. "You can believe me when I say that if you cause trouble and Or'Shal finds it necessary to spank you, then you will receive a spanking from me as well when I return. Do you understand?"

"I-" Trysten had effectively forgotten what had been said before. "No! That isn't fair, why would I need to be punished _twice_!"

Lhys's expression was infuriatingly delighted with the response he had gotten. "Think of it as extra motivation. You are to be a good boy, Trysten."

Trysten whimpered, defeated as usual by the choice of words. "I'll _try_ , I swear it. Don't talk that way."

"Then behave, darling," Lhys cooed, leaning in to kiss him again. "Tell Or'Shal I will return in exactly three days. I will miss you, my love."

\-----

It was fully dark by the time Trysten made his way back to the little house, his progress slow and halting as he had no light source, and the forest was darker than he might have expected. His eyes even seemed to want to refuse to adjust properly, and he had to bite his tongue to keep any nasty curses from slipping out every time his foot caught against a stray rock or tangle of plants. Even if Or'Shal couldn't hear, somehow Trysten was sure he would _know_.

When he arrived, it looked as though the orc had been worried for him. His bulk was an even darker shadow against the side of the house, the lamplight from inside only faintly visible from the window.

"There ye are. Was about to start a search and rescue of my own. Come on inside." Trysten felt himself being gently herded through the door, which he did not protest in the slightest. "No moon tonight. Nothing but clouds. Not the night to be wandering about the forest with a lover."

Or'Shal had moved on toward the oven as though he had said nothing unusual, but Trysten stared after him. "Lhys is not my... He's not my-"

"Really?" The orc was adding a few sticks of wood to the fire, not even glancing toward the elf. "I admit ye never said he was, but it's a bit of the impression I picked up from the two of ye. On the other hand, ye wouldn't have done what ye did if ye were lovers, or I think ye wouldn't, anyway. Lhys took the gift back, didn't he?"

Trysten had the grace to blush again at the memory. "Yes, he has the locket. And we are just friends. Even if... Even if sometimes I'm not sure."

He did not elaborate on this, instead grabbing his cloak and huddling into it on a chair nearer to the oven as though he was cold. It was not that he meant they were not friends, but he still worried he was not adequate enough to be 'more' for Lhys.

Or'Shal did not push the conversation either, but he did eventually turn and eye Trysten closely. The elf had a distinct impression that his thoughts were being read again. "He will be back in three days. I suppose then we will discuss what we are to do." Trysten dropped his gaze, not looking happy, despite everything else. The outcome of the discussion would likely be that he would be forced away even if he knew he couldn't stay in Or'Shal's home indefinitely.

"Alright," Or'Shal replied, gentler than Trysten would have imagined. "We'll talk it out, and it will be fine. Ye'll see I'm right about that."

Trysten, beginning to feel difficult, merely shrugged his shoulders in response. Or'Shal sighed.

"Off to bed with ye, then. That's a good way to forestall a bad mood, considering ye've already been disciplined today." He turned his back to Trysten, but the elf only scowled and moved to obey. He didn't _have_ to, but found he wanted to. Besides, it was a good point, and he had no urge to bring another punishment down on himself so soon.

Regardless, he stayed seated in bed instead of reclining for another few minutes, looking toward Or'Shal. "My fortune," he said slowly, the thought having suddenly occurred to him. "Did it come true?"

The orc took so long to reply that Trysten only barely heard the answer before he drifted into sleep. "Oh, it came true. But it doesn't seem to be finished yet."

\-----

Fortunately for him, Trysten managed to avoid trouble during the next three days. Possibly it was the threat of twice the amount of punishment hanging over his head, or maybe his behavior had truly improved for the time being, but he remained polite and kept out of Or'Shal's way, mostly fretting over his impending departure from the orc's home. However, when the day came for Lhys to return, he did find himself with an attitude that was fast slipping into frustrated anger.

In his way of thinking, it was simply not fair. He had no urge to return to Suran, but where was he to go if he could not stay with Or'Shal? It was almost as though he suddenly belonged nowhere and had no one else who could understand this. It was foolish of him, though he was not thinking of it properly, as usual.

Lhys arrived to immediately draw Trysten into an embrace, as well as a gentle kiss, in plain view of Or'Shal. The orc raised an eyebrow at Trysten as if to remind him of his earlier words, but Trysten pretended not to see this, settling himself on a chair while the other two also took seats near him. He folded his arms tightly, a pout slowly beginning to work its way onto his face.

After exchanging more pleasantries with Lhys than Trysten had, Or'Shal leaned back and contemplated them both seriously. "Well, no use prolonging it. We have to sort out what's to be done. Simply put, Trysten can't stay here indefinitely. I think he's got no desire to return to his former life and seemingly no drive to come up with his own answer. That about right, boy?"

Trysten had not expected this. Lhys and Or'Shal were both looking at him, and then he realized he really ought to have been thinking of his own solutions rather than moping about and waiting for someone else to. It made him feel worse. "There _is_ no easy answer. My coin is limited, it's not as though I can travel far. Perhaps another house can be built here in the forest..."

"Nay," Or'Shal grunted. "Ye can't _stay_ here, I've told ye. The forest is more under my protection than ye might think, and it would offset the balance for ye to stay here for more than a couple of cycles, especially with your penchant for foul language and poor manners. Plus, ye'll always run the risk of being seen by the orcs who come here. It's not worth that risk, Trysten."

Obstinate, not even paying attention to the first part of Or'Shal's reasoning, Trysten glared at him. "You're good at charms. Maybe you have one that can make me look like an orc instead. No one will ever know."

It was a ridiculous and impossible idea, and Or'Shal was clearly not impressed. "If yer going to be childish and unhelpful, then go stand with yer nose against the wall while the adults discuss this for a time. Go on." The orc was pointing at the far wall as though he _expected_ to be obeyed. Trysten scowled in disbelief, turning to Lhys for help.

Lhys's expression did not promise any. "Go, darling. I have to agree that you are being rude and unhelpful. You need to think about your behavior."

His chest knotted in anger, Trysten continued to glare between them both before he stood up and stormed over to the wall, his nose nearly pressed to it, as instructed. He was furious with them both at that moment, though it was irrational, and the longer he stood there, the more he began to calm and realize just how childish he was really behaving.

"So, he cannot stay here and will not return to Suran. I confess I am at something of a loss myself," he could hear Lhys saying. The sadness in his voice was evident even from across the room. "I feel I must remain with the army for now, although I admit I am having my own doubts and would think about leaving formally. I'm afraid Trysten would be held in high suspicion if he were found by anyone from Suran. They might even incarcerate him until the end of the war. He is not a traitor, but it might be difficult to convince others of that."

Or'Shal's low rumbling tone was heard next. "It does cause a few problems. We need somewhere else for him to go, and that only needs to be sorted out."

Unable to bear it, Trysten turned and walked back to them, sinking down beside Lhys and taking his hand. "Are you really thinking about leaving the army? You don't have to, Lhys. I'm not worth that. Perhaps I will just... I will just set out on my own, find some sort of work to do, and earn my way into a new life elsewhere. But you may never see me again."

Once again, he was playing somewhat on Lhys's sympathies, which Or'Shal was quicker to work out than his friend was. "Trysten, if ye really want to continue this conversation while lying over my knee, that can be arranged. Stay rational, and we may get this concluded sooner."

Trysten drew back in alarm, but Lhys was clinging onto his hand, looking desperately concerned, as the younger elf had thought he would. "Darling, no. Indeed, I may not wish to stay with the army much longer. You see, the existence of Or'Shal is enough to change my mind, to want to explore the fact that there might be a way to settle the conflict without further damage to life or property. I owe that much to you, my dear heart, no matter that you went about it in the wrong way. There is no changing that, but now we can work toward a better future for you, for both of us, perhaps even for _all_ of our people, and I'm grateful for it."

His statement had clearly included Or'Shal as well, and the orc nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I can't lie. The both of ye have given me more hope than I ever had before. Lhys more than Trysten, of course." The comment had been a jest, though Trysten still scowled until Lhys had soothingly stroked his hand enough to settle him again. "If there's a way to end the war, a way to make sure neither side keeps getting hurt at the very least, I'm for it. I'm a healer, and the damage we're doing to each other and to the world _itself_ makes me sick to my very heart. I'd take a chance. Even if it starts with just myself and two elven scouts."

Or'Shal's little speech touched Trysten, and he found himself nodding in agreement. After all, why had he left Suran in the first place? He could not agree with the elves who lived there any longer.

"Yes," Lhys replied simply, a little smile on his handsome face. "What about... Oh, perhaps I could help Trysten with some coin, and there could be a small place for him at the port city. It is only half a day's walk, and it is a place to start until I could join him. What do you think, youngling?"

The idea clearly was not the most appealing to Trysten. "I don't know. But what else can I do? If I can't stay here, then what else?"

Or'Shal eyed him grimly before heaving a sigh. "Don't make me feel bad, boy. This seems like the most solid idea for now. Ye can still visit, and eventually, Lhys will join ye. Someone's got to be taking care of yer discipline, after all."

Trysten shifted in his seat, considering the fact that there might really be no place that was safe anymore, though a sore bottom would be the least of his troubles in this new life he would find himself in. "Fine. I... We can start there. I am certain it will work out eventually." He decided to ignore the implied threat of future spankings, which he was beginning to accept might be inevitable. "I want something to change, and I'm willing to try it."

Lhys beamed proudly, kissing the back of Trysten's hand, which he had still refused to let go. "Of course, darling. And you can visit Or'Shal, and I will visit you, as much as possible while we begin this new journey."

It was clear then to Trysten that Lhys was happy, and in fact, Or'Shal was also. There was a strange amount of hope within him as suddenly got up and embraced his old friend, then moved to the orc to do the same. It struck him that he had never actually _shown_ this affection to Or'Shal, and now it made him feel as though he should have. No matter their differences, they were friends, and even more than that.

And as he felt Or'Shal tug him closer, one large hand patting his back with surprising tenderness, he realized that friendship was the first step to something much greater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading if you followed _all the way_ to the end! Your kind words have meant a lot to me and I'm glad you've enjoyed the story. I am legit sad to post the last chapter, but I'm considering a sequel in the future if I can manage to do a lot more worldbuilding. I am very fond of these characters. Again, thank you for reading. <3


End file.
